


Bring me home

by amithia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Arthur Whump, Blow Jobs, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Caring Merlin (Merlin), Consensual, Divorce, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gwen and Arthur have a kid, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not so secret, Older Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Secret Relationship, Top Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), because those two are not as subtle as they think, no infidelity, oneshot turned into mini series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amithia/pseuds/amithia
Summary: The memories are a bit vague. Arthur doesn’t remember the first time he met Merlin very clearly.It took him a good few weeks before he bothered to learn the boy's name properly and actually keep it in long-term memory.He didn't remember when it changed, or how, but Merlin had become a permanent fixture in his life and he couldn’t imagine it to be any other way.--In which Arthur is 38, married to Gwen and has a 17 y/o son. Merlin is 16 and somehow manages to flip Arthur's world upside down.
Relationships: Gwen/Lancelot - mentioned, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon
Comments: 96
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something ~~short~~ (not so short now, lol), sweet and steamy. This idea sprung to mind.  
> If you're familiar with my work, you must have noticed I'm a sucker for whump!Arthur and Merlin taking care of him. Fluff always finds a way :D

The memories are a bit vague. Arthur doesn’t remember the first time he met Merlin very clearly. He does remember coming home early from a board meeting, over half a year ago, exhausted and grumpy. He remembers Michael introducing a young boy, explaining that he’s a class-mate and will be tutoring Michael for a few weeks until the finals. He remembers grunting something in acknowledgement, then excusing himself to his home-office to look over the stuff that had been brought up during the meeting.

He remembers the boy coming over regularly, a couple of times a week for an hour or two. He remembers exchanging general pleasantries and occasionally making an awkward small talk, both of them too closed off to dive into anything deeper.

He remembers Gwen being much more chatty and open with the boy, spending a few minutes every time to interrogate him on his family and school, asking if she could offer him a lemonade or something sweet to eat.

He remembers it took him a good few weeks before he bothered to learn Merlin’s name properly and actually keep it in long-term memory. It was when Merlin came over before Michael returned from his footie practice and Gwen was still at work, and instead of an uncomfortable silence Arthur was expecting, Merlin indulged him in a meaningful conversation, asking about his job and his hobbies. Arthur kept his answers short, unemotional but Merlin was so inquiring, so genuinely curious that Arthur found himself diving into vivid details of those topics and before he knew it, he had been talking for half an hour, long enough for Michael to arrive home. And he was dumbfounded by the weird feeling that resembled disappointment when Merlin’s company was stolen from him.

He doesn’t remember if that was the breaking point that changed everything, but he remembers the weird, nameless kid becoming Merlin, a boy who in the tutoring process managed to befriend his son and become a fixture in all their lives. And he remembers looking forward to those days that Merlin would come over, because they kinda, upon some silent agreement, made it a thing that Merlin would get there before Michael came home from the practice and they would spend the time talking.

Sometimes about serious things. Arthur learned that Merlin was the only child and lived with his mother, never met his father who had taken off before he was born. That his mother was the most amazing person on the planet because she had been supporting him through everything, even through his identity crisis when he had realized he was gay. He found out that Merlin wasn’t actually Michael’s class-mate, was one year bellow him but was smart enough that he covered the subjects from Michael’s year during his self-study.

Merlin told him he wanted to be a doctor and Arthur knew right away, with complete certainty, that he would become a brilliant one.

And sometimes, they would spend the time just cracking jokes and making terrible puns.

Every so often, Gwen would be there too and she would give them a soft but slightly confused smile before retreating to the kitchen or the back-yard.

And before long, the finals were up and over and Arthur was overwhelmed with a sense of longing but it was short-lived as Michael announced that Merlin had agreed to continue tutoring him even with no exams in sight, just because he only had one year left before applying for uni. The difference was they agreed to meet up once a week and in a desperate attempt to get Merlin to spend more time over at their house, Arthur introduced movie nights - or rather evenings - on Friday and the three of them would indulge in some evergreen science fiction.

Michael was ecstatic about the prospect of spending some more time with his dad, given it wasn’t like Arthur to do much else but work when he was home. And on the contrary, it was Gwen this time who barely spent any time with them, coming home later and later, but on a rare occasion joined them on the sofa.

Without even realizing it, Merlin had become a permanent fixture in his life and he couldn’t imagine it to be any other way.

Sometimes, he would catch himself thinking about the boy before he went to sleep or when he had a particularly dull day at work. He would hear himself ask his son about his friend and how he was doing, hoping it wasn’t too weird.

And sometimes, only very rarely, he would let his gaze track Merlin’s every move, raking his eyes over the boy's gangly frame, his smooth, pale skin and wild hair. His heart would break a little when Merlin smiled too wide and dimply, blue eyes crinkling up into half-moons, the smile lighting up his whole face.

He would always chastise himself for those moments, burying them deep inside him, filled with shame and confusion.

But sometimes, when Merlin caught him staring, he would give Arthur this dark, intense look of his own and all those suppressed feelings would break free, consuming him in shame and the forbidden desire.

He doesn’t remember all the details but he remembers being presented with divorce papers and how it changed everything.

* * *

“I don’t understand how she could have done this to you. Both of you,” Merlin shakes his head, his expression more remorseful than Arthur feels.

It’s not Friday today but Merlin has been spending more and more time with Michael lately and Arthur suspects it’s because he worries about him. He is grateful his son has a friend like that.

“She didn’t try to hurt either of us. It just is what it is,” Arthur shrugs. He knows Gwen would never do anything of sorts. Despite everything, they are good friends. Always have been, even before they got married.

“But it was all so... sudden,” Merlin says, sounding a bit lost. He looks so fragile where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter that Arthur wants to wrap him in his arms and comfort him, even though he’s the one who got divorced just two days ago.

“It really wasn’t,” he disagrees, wincing at the truth. “We stayed together more for convenience than anything else. There hasn’t been much between us since Michael turned twelve.”

Merlin’s eyes widen a fraction. “That’s... a really long time.”

“Yeah,” Arthur agrees. “But Michael is practically grown up, now. He’ll be ok.”

Merlin ponders the statement. “He seems rather unfazed by the whole thing,” he concludes, confusion evident in his face.

“He must have seen it coming. He’s a smart kid. It wouldn’t surprise me if he knew before either of us knew.”

“I’m just surprised that he’s not... you know... mad at Gwen.”

Arthur blinks at the boy, unsure what he’s trying to say but it becomes clear soon enough.

“She never cheated on me, if that’s what you mean,” he rushes to clarify. “Yes, it was her who asked for divorce but we talked about it and eventually, she admitted that although the two of us had been drifting apart for years, it was falling in love with Lance that finally spurred her to action.”

Merlin blinks at him, brows scrunching up. “And you just... accepted it?”

Arthur slumps against the island, sighing tiredly. “She told me she wasn’t in love with me anymore. What was I to do?”

Silence stretches between them and with a note of bitterness, Arthur thinks back on the first few days that followed Gwen’s confession and how the whole thing sent him into a spiral of self-doubt.

“It’s not like I can blame her anyway,” he shrugs, feigning indifference. “I’m barely ever home and when I am, I tend to work. And I’m no social butterfly either. Actually, I’m pretty boring. And Lance is... he’s the exact opposite of me.” The mental image of his ex-wife and his friend flashes before his eyes and try as he might, he can’t deny how well they fit with each other. “It’s no wonder they ended up together. There was nothing I could offer her.”

Merlin pushes away from the counter, stepping closer to Arthur and holding his gaze resolutely. “Arthur, that’s not true,” he shakes his head, the intensity of his words surprising. “Not true at all.”

Arthur scoffs self-deprecatingly.“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Merlin insists and as he stands in front of him, Arthur has a fleeting thought that in no time, they will be the same height. It makes his stomach flutter for no good reason. “You’re honest and incredibly warm-hearted. The only reason you worked so hard is because you wanted to make sure your family was well-taken care of. You’re loyal, kind and absolutely hilarious. I don’t think I ever laughed as much as I do with you,” he says with a conviction that makes Arthur feel warm all over. “You are amazing and anyone would be so damn lucky to have you.”

Somewhere deep in Arthur’s chest, he feels a whimper resound within. “You don’t even know me that well,” he objects weakly, looking down to avoid Merlin’s burning gaze.

“I don’t need to know your life-story to know this. I’ve experienced it first-hand.”

Arthur doesn’t remember doing anything special but he doesn’t want to argue with Merlin. “I don’t think that’s accurate but I... appreciate it.”

“I wasn’t flattering you, Arthur. I was just stating the obvious,” Merlin presses, stepping impossibly closer without touching. He licks his lips, apparently weighing his next words.“Just for the record, if I were in her shoes... if I had someone like you to call mine... I would never let him go.”

A shudder overtakes Arthur’s body and he’s grateful he’s leaning against something. He doesn’t know how Merlin’s words can hold such power over him and he refuses to investigate it.

He clears his throat, unable to look at the boy. “You still have plenty of time to find someone like that,” he mumbles.

Merlin lets out a small huff. “I’m not worried about that.”

Finally, Arthur dares look up and is met with Merlin’s intense stare. He feels his blood boil under his skin and ignores the suspicious buckling of his knees.

None of them moves but Arthur swears that Merlin is somehow closer than he was ten seconds ago. He opens his mouth, unknowing of what will come out but his son’s voice breaks the spell and suddenly, he can breathe again.

“Merls! It’s all ready for us, mate! Get your ass over here!”

Merlin jumps a little at the sound that carries from the first floor, shoulders slumping. He sighs softly and steps away from Arthur, almost regretfully.

“Talk to you later?” he asks hopefully.

“Sure.”

Merlin nods in acknowledgement and makes his way to the stairs to join Michael for a game, looking back at Arthur one more time before he disappears.

* * *

Things change even more since that day. Merlin comes over more and more often, sometimes even when Michael is not home, hanging out with his team-mates instead. But Merlin seems happy with only Arthur for a company and they spend those times watching Marvel movies and arguing about who the best avenger is.

Those days are fucking amazing and Arthur loves them but he also dreads them. Because somehow, at some point, Merlin starts being more touchy-feely and it drives Arthur nuts.

He knows he could always ask Merlin to stop touching him like that, to ask for more personal space - that would be the smart thing to do. But he relishes the closeness and physical contact too much to bring himself to put a stop to them.

Merlin tends to put his hand on Arthur’s arm or shoulder when they stand close, laughing at some joke one of them made. He brushes their fingers together when Arthur holds out a glass or a bottle to him, prompting him to take it. He loves to sit close to Arthur on the sofa even though the bloody thing is at least six feet long. And more often than not, he shuffles close enough during the movie for their thighs and arms to brush. Arthur loves and hates those the most because despite teetering on the verge of sanity, it makes something inside him come to life.

* * *

It’s Wednesday when Merlin comes over next. Arthur fetches a bottle of coke for him, as usual and a non-alcoholic beer for himself because the last thing he wants is for Merlin to learn some bad habits.

Last time, they watched Civil War so he puts on Spiderman:Homecoming and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, Merlin settling himself next to him a few seconds later.

Technically, there is nothing unusual about that day but for some unknown reason, Arthur feels tension in the air around them. Like there is a dam just waiting to break. He thinks he’s going crazy at first, paranoid even but then, the dam makes itself known.

Arthur’s breath catches in his throat as he feels Merlin’s thigh not brush, but press firmly to his. There’s no doubt that the action is very much deliberate and conscious. He swallows heavily and tightens his grip on the beer so much it’s in danger of breaking into pieces, his unoccupied hand balling up into a fist.

He knows he should move away, create some space between them but it’s as though Merlin has him under a spell, simply with the heat of his body and his boyish, intoxicating scent. So yeah, he knows he should move but God help him, he can’t. He can barely breathe.

Merlin either doesn’t take notice of his suddenly rigid posture or he plainly doesn’t care. His eyes are glued to the telly and occasionally, he takes a drink of his coke. Arthur watches from the corner of his eye, mesmerized by the way his fingers play over the bottle, creating trails through the perspiration.

Merlin has nice fingers, he muses, long and elegant. His hands are large and strong-looking, they suit his tall, lanky frame. Arthur has a fleeting, but intense urge to feel them on his skin.

He stares resolutely ahead and takes a sip of the beer, mouth suddenly like desert. He has no idea what’s going on in the movie, doesn’t know how long he’s been spaced out, all of his senses overtaken by the boy next to him..

He vaguely thinks he could make an excuse, get away from Merlin as far as possible. Yeah, he could. He could say he forgot he still had some paperwork to do, or a phone-call that needs to be taken care of. That could work. Merlin would take it in stride, like he does everything else. And Arthur could keep his sanity intact, well, mostly anyway.

He’s half-determined to do just that but suddenly, there is a hand on his thigh, a burning sensation just above his knee. Merlin’s large hand - that he just dreamed to have on his skin - on the same thigh he’s pressing his own to.

Arthur is frozen in place, unable to move an inch. He needs to do something, or at least say something! But his mind is unhelpfully blank and he’s lost all the control of his body.

He doesn’t know how much time passes with him paralyzed like that but Merlin must take his lack of objecting for a consent and slides his hand higher and up, up... until his pinky brushes ever so slightly against Arthur’s crotch.

Quickly regaining control of himself, Arthur’s hand shoots up to grasp Merlin’s wrist in a deadly grip.

“What are you-- what are you doing?” he asks lowly, not recognizing his voice. He’s not looking at the boy directly, doesn’t dare, but he knows that Merlin is staring at him.

“What do you think?” he retorts, amused, like Arthur’s question is the most ridiculous thing ever and there is something else in his voice that Arthur hasn’t heard before, can’t detect.

Instead of feeling discouraged and pulling away, Merlin presses his hand to Arthur’s thigh more firmly, nearly digging his fingers to the flesh on the inside. Arthur’s wearing his favorite pair of loose jeans but he might as well be naked, the heat of Merlin’s palm searing, branding him.

Hissing through his teeth, Arthur tightens his grip in return, trying to push him away but Merlin doesn’t budge.

“What am I supposed to think?” And why is he still talking like they are just having a regular conversation while his hand, a _man’s_ hand - a _boy’s_ hand - is a hair breadth’s away from cupping his rapidly swelling cock.

He can feel Merlin adjusting himself on the sofa, turning to face Arthur properly. He doesn’t seem deterred by Arthur’s apparent refusal to do the same at all.

“I thought it was obvious,” he whispers, his hot breath caressing over the side of Arthur’s neck and fuck, that is way too close.

“Well, it’s not!” Arthur snaps and he thinks he must be cutting off the blood supply to Merlin’s hand with the force he’s clutching at his fine, narrow wrist but Merlin doesn’t seem to notice. Instead he presses his whole body to Arthur’s and when he speaks next, it’s not just his breath but his full, soft, wet lips moving over the sensitive skin on the side of Arthur’s neck.

“How can you not see how much I want you?” he asks gravelly, the desire in his voice backing up the words.

A sound escapes Arthur against his will and he will deny to his dying day that it’s a whimper.

He can feel Merlin smile against his skin and with a sense of terror, he realizes he’s fully hard, the pressure against the denim almost painful.

“Arthur,” he breathes like a prayer. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut. “I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you.” His voice rolls over Arthur like a tidal wave. “Arthur.” And that is a bloody kiss pressed to his neck! “I want to suck you.”

 _That_ finally prompts Arthur into action. He tears Merlin’s hand away from his leg violently and holds it towards Merlin’s chest, not letting go just in case he tries again.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he asks in fury, turning red in the face from listening to Merlin’s words and... yeah, from his reaction to them.

Merlin looks at him patiently, as though Arthur is just a wild animal that needs some gentle taming. “Why? Are you going to say you don't want to?”

“Of course I don’t! What gave you the impression I might?!”

Merlin snorts and it only serves to fuel Arthur’s indignation. “You’re not exactly subtle, Arthur,” he says conversationally, not paying the awkward situation any mind.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Arthur,” he prompts, reaching his other hand towards his leg again. “I see the way you look at me. You hardly ever take your eyes off me. You watch me with such intensity that I can physically feel it.”

Arthur jumps at the touch, mind reeling from Merlin’s accusation.

“That’s not-- I don’t--” No. No, he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t! He can’t! Because it’s ridiculous and wrong and _why the hell would he do that?!_

“It’s alright, Arthur,” Merlin interrupts soothingly, giving a gentle smile. “I like it when you do that. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked myself off thinking of you, of what I’d do if I put my hands on you. Of what I’d have _you_ do to _me.”_

Arthur feels like something terrible is about to happen if he doesn’t stop touching Merlin right this second and with a panicked yelp, he tears himself away and flies to the end of the sofa, as far as he can.

“Don’t touch me,” he spits out, hoping the quake of his voice doesn’t betray him.

“Your words don’t really match with... well, the _rest_ of you,” Merlin replies calmly, nodding pointedly to Arthur’s obviously tented jeans.

Ignoring the jab, Arthur aims for reason instead. “This is wrong. On so many levels.”

“Why? Because I’m a man?”

Well, yes, because Arthur likes women, has only ever liked women. But that’s not the point right now.

“Because you’re a child!”

Merlin rolls his eyes, like he saw it coming from far away. “I’m sixteen, Arthur, almost an adult.” He shuffles closer to Arthur on his knees, leaving him no escape route. He gives him a slow, deliberate smirk. “Let me show you,” he says huskily, touching his ankle, the contact just as searing as before.

“And you’re a friend of my son for fucks sake!” Arthur justifies, wanting to extract himself from Merlin’s touch but unable to do so unless he wants to kick him in the face.

“None of this is Michael’s business.”

“Hell it isn’t! What do you think he would say if he knew that we--” Oh, no. Not _we,_ “that _you--”_ he corrects, face burning, “that you came onto his dad?!”

“Would probably call me a slag,” Merlin smirks, unbothered by the prospect, looking at Arthur knowingly. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it? No, you worry what he would say if he knew that _his dad,”_ he presses even closer, placing his other hand on Arthur’s knee and leaning in, “is doing everything in his power to not just jump my bones and have his way with me on this very sofa.”

Arthur lets out a painful sound, the words piercing right through him. He opens his mouth to retort back, to deny Merlin’s statement, to yell at him to get the fuck away, but nothing comes out. He can just lay there, Merlin’s hands curled possessively around his ankle and his knee, and to his complete horror, he watches his own legs fall open slightly, out of their own accord, as Merlin slots in the place between them. 

“Arthur,” he croaks, voice dark with desire and it nearly causes Arthur’s brain to short-circuit. “I’m telling you, you don’t need to hold back. I want you to let go,” he soothes, removing his hands from Arthur’s legs and bracing himself up on either side of Arthur’s torso, hovering over him. His scent is even more powerful now, even more intoxicating. It feels as though Arthur’s soaking it into his own skin.

Unable to respond, he rakes his gazes over Merlin’s slender frame, his impossibly long arms caging Arthur in, the disarray of his dark hair, curling at the temples, his full, pink, soft-looking lips, the hint of stubble because he _is_ nearly an adult. He slides his eyes lower, watching Merlin’s chest heave with each breath, his own breath hitching when his gaze lands on the painfully visible outline of Merlin’s length where it grows bigger by the second.

He has a sudden and so very, very wrong thought that Merlin fits perfectly between his legs, as if he was made for it.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut because the picture Merlin makes is driving him to the verge of sanity.

Warm breath caresses at his lips and he parts them on a sharp inhale.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispers against them. “Let me take care of you. I want to take care of you.”

Arthur shakes his head, eyes still closed. “W-why? Why would y-you want that?”

“Oh, Arthur.” And God, he sounds so sad. “You have no idea, do you?” _No. No, he doesn’t._ “I want to because you deserve it. Because you deserve everything. Someone to make you feel good, to take care of you because you take care of everyone else and never take anything for yourself.” He brushes his lips against Arthur’s, drawing a whimper from him. “You deserve someone who wants to give you everything.”

And God, Merlin’s kissing him next and it’s so, so wrong and so, so incredibly good. Instead of being off-putting, the rough skin of Merlin’s cheeks and chin has Arthur twitch in his pants. He moans wantonly, despite himself, but doesn’t open his eyes. If he opens them it’s all gonna be too real, he can’t deal with that.

Merlin hums appreciatively at his reaction and the tip of his tongue flicks against Arthur’s lips, asking permission. And Arthur knows he shouldn’t but he opens up to him regardless and hears Merlin keen in delight before he slips his tongue inside. He licks into Arthur’s mouth like he’s dying to get a taste of him, moaning when he gets plenty as their tongues tangle together.

Fuck, this is so much different than kissing a woman. Not just the absence of softness and delicate features but the force with which Merlin dominates the kiss, leaving Arthur unable to do anything but just take it. So different to what Arthur’s used to. Used to leading and initiating and who the hell knew that letting go could feel so incredibly freeing.

In the back of his mind, he thinks of Gwen and how she has never kissed him like this. So wanting and possessive and driven. Never kissed him like she wanted to devour him whole.

Thinking of Gwen spurs him into action and instead of being a passive participant, he decides to throw caution to the wind, just for this one moment, and slides his hands into Merlin’s dark locks, humming at the surprisingly silky feel of them.

“God, Arthur, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Merlin mumbles into the kiss, driving him even more crazy, making him deepen the kiss and suck all the breath from Merlin’s lungs.

They kiss like that for a little while, gasping for breath when they finally pull apart to get some much needed oxygen and Arthur is rendered speechless by the way Merlin’s eyes turned impossibly dark. “Arthur,” he licks his lips, Arthur tracking the movement in trance. “I really want to suck you. Will you let me?”

No. No, he can’t. That’s too much. Kissing is one thing and that’s already crossing a boundary but he can’t allow anything else.

Arthur nods his head in assent before he knows what he’s doing, flabbergasted by the involuntary action.

Merlin’s face lights up with a smile so wide it nearly blinds Arthur. He looks like a bloody kid on Christmas Day.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promises and Arthur quakes with anticipation and nerves.

Then, Merlin’s sliding down his body, his eager hands making a short process with the button and zipper of his jeans, lifting his shirt up to reveal the soft skin of his lower belly which Arthur has always been so self-conscious about. He forgets all about his embarrassment when Merlin’s lips start sucking at the skin, making Arthur’s abdominal muscles jump in sensitivity.

Merlin laughs quietly, then follows the trail of light, coarse hair to where it disappears in Arthur’s underwear. A wave of shame rolls over him as he realizes there is a large, wet spot under the waistband, his desire for Merlin so painfully obvious despite his objections.

It comes as a shock when Merlin seals his lips around the head of his cock through the thin layer of fabric, moaning at the taste and it only causes Arthur to leak even more.

“M-Merlin...” he utters weakly. Merlin peers up at him, lips stretched in a smirk.

“Good?” he checks, hooking his fingers at the waistband. Arthur lets out nearly inaudible whine. “I’ve actually only done this once,” he admits suddenly, dread overtaking Arthur. “But I’m a quick learner,” he winks and swiftly pulls the briefs down to Arthur’s mid-thigh, his fully erect cock slapping against his stomach.

Arthur closes his eyes again, mortified at his reaction but they promptly shoot open as he feels hot breath against the sensitive skin. Glancing down to meet Merlin’s hungry look, he feels like a prey. It should scare him to death but instead, he just _wants._

As though Merlin can sense this, he holds Arthur’s gaze as he opens his mouth and licks slowly at the head, drawing out even more liquid. Arthur whimpers at the first touch, clawing at the upholstery but God help him, he can’t look away. Merlin’s eyes are boring into his, setting his insides on fire with the single look more than his touch and Arthur has never felt so wanted in his life.

“Merlin.”

Taking that as a cue to get down to business, Merlin places a reverent kiss to the hot flesh before he engulfs Arthur in his mouth, taking him as deep as he can and only stopping when his throat protests at the intrusion. Arthur throws his head back, pressing it into the armrest, taking in a lungful of air.

Spurred by his response, Merlin wraps his long fingers around the part of Arthur he can’t take in and goes to town, bobbing his head enthusiastically. He drags his tongue at the underside, then swipes it through the slit when he gets to the top, wrapping his lips around the crown. Arthur’s hips snap up on reflex and he’s immediately apologetic.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he chokes, his voice so high it makes him blush. Merlin just smiles comfortingly.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” he teases, Arthur’s blush deepening. “One day, Arthur, I’ll let you fuck my mouth when I know I’m not gonna choke to death.” The promise of _one day,_ of _more,_ sends Arthur’s mind reeling. “Until then... we should practice. Often. You know... just to be sure,” he says smugly and before Arthur can reply, Merlin starts sucking him again, ridding him of all coherent thought.

Merlin looks positively sinful as he takes Arthur apart and there is no way Arthur can deny Merlin’s previous words about how much he wants Arthur. Every touch of his hands and lips and tongue on any part of Arthur’s body has been nothing but ardent display of desire, an indisputable proof. 

He has no idea why Merlin, who’s so terribly sweet and stupid-smart and incredibly funny and endearingly awkward would want just a boring old man like himself but somehow, he does, and Arthur doesn’t know how to express what the knowledge does to him.

He’s bewildered to find he’s nearing the edge rapidly, Merlin being too skillful despite his claims of inexperience. It probably has to do more with his enthusiasm and the fact that it’s, well, Merlin, than the technique itself.

“M-Merlin,” he gasps, hips stuttering. “I’m close.”

Merlin purrs in response, with no sign of stopping.

“Merlin!” Arthur warns, pulling at his hair. Merlin looks up at him and lets Arthur slide out of his mouth with an obscene sound. He tightens his grip on Arthur’s cock and starts stroking him languidly, thumb pressing just under the head.

“Want you to come on my face,” he says resolutely and Arthur wants to object, but Merlin increases the speed of his strokes and before he can get a word in edge-wise, Arthur’s hips buck up into Merlin’s firm grip and in the next second, he’s coming.

Merlin lets his mouth fall open and Arthur watches in trance as he paints his pretty face in thick, white ropes, coming over his sharp cheekbones and reddened, open lips.

Merlin moans shamelessly and swipes his tongue over his lips, chasing Arthur’s taste. He smiles at Arthur toothily, such a stark contrast to how he was just seconds ago. “That was amazing,” he says happily and Arthur laughs at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Are you laughing at me?” Merlin demands, mock-offended and the glint in his eyes gives him away.

“No,” Arthur answers, then thinks. “Yes.” Merlin yelps indignantly, slapping Arthur’s arm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who just gave a spectacular blowjob,” Merlin admonishes, tucking Arthur back in his underwear and pulling his jeans up but leaving them open. He reaches over to the coffee table to pluck a few tissues from the box and gives his face a cursory clean up.

“It wasn’t that spectacular,” Arthur teases.

“Oi!” Merlin protests, climbing over Arthur. “Take that back!”

“Nope.”

Merlin pinches at the soft skin of his side, earning a squeal. “Take it back!”

“Or what?”

Merlin’s eyes sparkle and Arthur thinks he might be in trouble. “You don’t wanna know,” he says huskily and kisses over Arthur’s jaw. Arthur exhales shakily at the affectionate gesture and it finally occurs to him that he should... reciprocate. _Right?_

He freezes, mouth going dry. Merlin immediately takes notice of the way his body just locked up and he looks at him questioningly, worry evident in his face.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?”

“Are you-- Don’t you need... um... a hand?” he finishes lamely, flicking his gaze downwards. Merlin follows the direction with his eyes like it’s news to him, then smiles as he looks at Arthur again.

“Ah. You don’t have to worry about that,” he says. Arthur blinks in confusion, then dares a proper look and goes still as he finds that Merlin is soft and there is a faint, wet spot at the front of his pants.

“Oh,” he hiccups, eyes going wide. “Did you...?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, a bit sheepish and Arthur can actually see him blush too. “I told you it was amazing.”

Arthur gapes at him, speechless. “Uh-huh.”

Merlin gives him a gentle smile, brushing a hand through his hair and he lowers himself on top of him, their chests flush. “Can we do it again?” he asks and for the first time since the whole thing started, he sounds nervous.

Arthur wants to stress that this was a mistake, that it can never happen again. Ever. But it’s like his body belongs to someone else and he feels himself nod despite his better judgment.

“Yeah.”

He knows this is wrong. He knows this is a mistake. He knows they are both gonna regret it.

But the beaming smile Merlin gives him before he kisses him senseless makes him believe it’s all gonna be worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, kids! So, I'm turning this little baby into a mini mini series, 3 or 4 chapters tops. I know I promised the next chapter to be a sequel but I thought you might want to see this whole thing from Merlin's POV, flashback style - you know, since he's way underage and all.

Merlin had never been a super social kid at school but still, he was nice to everyone. At least he thought he was. People generally liked him, even though he was admittedly weird (not counting the few homophobic assholes who had nothing better to do than pick on him here and there but were pretty harmless otherwise). He was on good terms with his class-mates and a few kids from Advanced chemistry class. He liked to indulge in a light-hearted small talk with some of them during his break or join them at the table for lunch. 

But he didn't really have friends, or anyone outside of school. His best friend, Will, was hours away in Ealdor, where Merlin had grown up, and whom Merlin had had to leave behind when he had moved to London with his mum at the age of eleven. They had obviously tried to keep in touch but as one could expect, it hadn't lasted. 

He still had Will in his friend's list on Facebook so he knew what the little shit was up to, and vice-versa but that was about it. 

There was Gwaine, of course, who was a year older than Merlin but managed to fail his exams and have the honor of repeating the whole year, although he wasn't in Merlin's class. Gwaine was good game, funny and charming in his recklessness and despite himself, Merlin enjoyed the care-free conversations and jokes, especially with someone who was so openly, unapologetically pansexual, but things got weird after they hooked up a couple months ago. It was nothing more than a handjob and one messy blowjob on Merlin's part, and Gwaine seemed unfazed by the whole thing but Merlin couldn't help but feel like it would never be the same. He wasn't sure he could call Gwaine his friend and it kinda saddened him.

So when Michael Pendragon approached him one day at the lockers and asked him to tutor him for the finals, it's safe to say he was... well, a bit shocked. He didn't even know that Michael knew his name.

It turned out that he didn't, actually. Merlin had apparently been recommended to him by one of his professors who had taken notice of Michael's slipping grades. 

Merlin did agree in the end, although reluctantly. He had no reason to say no, as Michael was perfectly polite and friendly, not a single sign of the posh, patronizing, macho dickbag Merlin had always pictured him to be, given his background and his popularity at school. He felt a bit silly to had been so presumptious, as that was something he himself hated in other people. He hoped he could really help Michael improve his grades, so he could stop feeling so guilty about his assumptions. 

They agreed on the day they would meet up for their first tutorial and when Merlin asked about the place, Michael suggested his place, explaining he preferred the privacy of his home. At first, Merlin thought Michael didn't want to be seen with him, the queer boy who, on top of everything, was also one year below him. Once more, he was proven wrong when Michael justified his preference, saying that he didn't want his friends to find out he cared more about school than football. They would never let him live it down, he said. 

They chose a day when they both finished at the same time, so they could take the bus together. Then Merlin would know where Michael lived and could get there on his own for those days their schedules didn't match. And yeah, that was another thing. Merlin, once more, wrongly assumed that Michael would have a car, since it was no secret his family was maybe not crazy rich, but definitely more than well provided for. Merlin asked then, more subtly though, and Michael patiently explained that his dad had promised to buy him a car when he left for uni - in Manchester, apparently - which would be in a little over a year. 

So far, Michael had been nothing but the exact opposite of what Merlin had expected and he couldn't help but feel a bit fond about the boy straight away. He wondered how someone, who had grown up in luxury, who was well-liked among other kids and professors alike, who was a talented athlete while having more than half a brain - at least Merlin thought he must have had, since he confessed he wanted to be an architect - had turned out to be such a lovely person. 

He wondered what kind of people his parents were. What kind of people had managed to raise someone like that.

* * *

When Michael saw his dad's car parked in the garage, he apologized to Merlin, claiming he hadn't known his dad would be back from work so early. Merlin just shrugged, it was all the same to him. His mind was more occupied by the sight of the magnificent, two-storey house he was just standing in front of. He didn't have much time to appreciate it, as Michael prompted him to get inside, revealing a very nice, though not overly large lobby. Merlin politely took his shoes off despite Michael's reassurance that he didn't have to. He then led him to the kitchen that was joined with the living room and before Merlin had time to bristle at the size of the interior, Michael was talking, but not to him. It was just then that Merlin finally registered a tall, blond man standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. 

The man, who must have been Michael's father, looked at his son, then locked his gaze with Merlin, squinting at him quizzically. While Merlin wouldn't call him intimidating, there was something about him that made Merlin stand taller and hold his head high. Michael introduced them, explaining that Merlin was a class-mate - which, not accurate - and was there to tutor him. Merlin had already taken a couple of steps forward with the intention to offer his hand for a shake but Michael's dad just nodded absently and promptly excused himself elsewhere, to sort out some stuff from work or something. Merlin turned to Michael questioningly and the boy just shrugged, saying that his dad, _Arthur_ , was a bit of a workaholic and this was his usual MO. 

Merlin followed Michael to his room, taking off his backpack filled with charts and notes that should help Michael in the long run and make things more digestible for him. 

He didn't know why but he couldn't stop thinking about Arthur the whole time he was rattling on about chemical reactions. There was just something about the man that had awakened a peculiar type of curiosity in him and he was determined to get to the bottom of it all.

* * *

When Merlin saw Arthur next, he was disappointed to find that Arthur had forgotten his name. To tell the truth, he didn't seem to be interested in making an effort to remember it anyway. Merlin didn't know why but he desperately wanted Arthur to like him and if not like him, then at least acknowledge him. He didn't count their corny, tense small talk as a win. Arthur was nothing but polite but also strangely guarded. Merlin tried not to take it personally because it didn't seem to have anything to do with him but he was disappointed regardless. 

Meeting Gwen, Michael's mum, was like doing a complete 180. The woman was charmingly easy-going (and that's Merlin's gay ass talking) and attentive, making Merlin feel at home. That wasn't to say that Arthur was the opposite but the lack of openness in the man just made him seem like a bit of a prat. Despite that, Merlin was strangely hooked on him.

What was more than a little weird was witnessing Arthur's and Gwen's interactions. While there was a palpable fondness between the two, it was all it was. Hearing them talk was almost mechanical, but Merlin supposed that tended to happen after, what, twenty years of marriage? They obviously cared for each other, and Michael, but the only time he saw them get physically close, as scarce as it was, was to peck each other on the cheek absently before taking off to somewhere else. 

Merlin's heart ached at watching them like that. He couldn't imagine living a similar life. He couldn't imagine life where he and his significant other had drifted apart and there was nothing left of the two people who had fallen in love with each other. He didn't _want to_ imagine it. 

He made a promise to himself that he would never allow that to happen to him. He would find the one and he would make sure he knew how much Merlin loved him and would remind him every day, until the end of the line.

* * *

It seemed that Michael's footie practice was taking longer than usual because when Merlin arrived to his house, it was Arthur who opened the door for him. He invited Merlin in regardless and offered him a bottle of coke. 

Merlin knew Arthur was a busy man, a true workaholic as Michael had once said, but he had an intense urge to crack through the man's tough exterior. It took a bit - lot - of prompting but eventually, fucking finally, he managed to get Arthur to talk about himself and he watched incredulously as his whole being lit up the more he opened himself up to Merlin, so unbelievably beautiful as he let his guard drop. He couldn't stop listening as Arthur's voice rolled over him, soaking him in warmth. Then the door opened and Michael walked in and for one terrible, fleeting second, Merlin kinda hated the boy. 

He might have been just projecting, but as he gave Arthur one last look before following Michael upstairs, he would swear that all his feelings were reflected in Arthur's eyes.

He couldn't stop thinking about the man for the rest of the day, and the thoughts chased him even to his bed. Despite his best efforts, sleep wouldn't come so he resigned himself to jerking off as release had always left him more relaxed. He wasn't at all surprised when Arthur's image popped in his head pretty much the second he wrapped his hand around his length, finding it already half-erect. He let his imagination run free and it didn't take long before he spilled onto his stomach, Arthur's name on his lips and the phantom sensation of Arthur's mouth pressed to his. 

* * *

Michael apologized to Merlin for being late and promised to text him next time if the situation was to repeat itself. 

The next time they had a tutorial scheduled, Merlin indeed did receive a text but a traitorous voice in his head told him to ignore it and show up early anyway. Merlin couldn't blame the voice, given that listening to it allowed him to dive into another conversation with Arthur while he was waiting for Michael to get home. Arthur didn't seem to question their not-matching schedule, content to just talk to Merlin.

After that, Merlin became addicted to peeling off Arthur's figurative layers (but honestly, he wouldn't say no to literal ones either) and although it was left unsaid, they both knew they kinda agreed on keeping this routine up. 

Just by listening to Arthur talk about himself, Merlin knew that the man was absolutely wonderful. Kind, caring and self-sacrificing. He was completely enraptured when Arthur turned out to be incredibly funny, to the point of being hilarious. He wasn't at all surprised that Arthur was also crazy smart, not just intelligent but had common-sense, and could easily jump from cracking jokes to talking about the fucked up society they lived in. 

He listened carefully when Merlin revealed rather personal stuff about himself, gave him an encouraging smile when he shared his dream of becoming a doctor and didn't bat an eye when Merlin confessed his sexual preferences. He talked to Merlin like he was his equal, never made him feel less or stupid or naive, as most people tended to do. Merlin might have been sixteen but he was more grown up than most adults he knew. And Arthur somehow noticed and treated him accordingly. 

To sum it up, the man was bloody perfect. It was inevitable that Merlin would start crushing hard and there wasn't a single day that he would see Arthur and not jerk off at night while replaying the conversation they had had. 

All in all, Merlin knew he was in trouble. But Arthur was married and old enough to be his dad. And anyway, it wasn't like Arthur would ever want him since he was so strikingly straight.

* * *

Maybe Merlin got it all wrong. Maybe he completely misjudged Arthur, as unlikely as it was, given the circumstances and facts. 

When Merlin caught him staring the first time, he thought it was because he had done something and Arthur wanted to keep him in check. He didn't know what it could be but what other explanation was there? Arthur was looking at him as though he wanted to figure him out, as though Merlin was a mystery to be solved which was ridiculous because they had spent all that time talking about themselves. 

But as Arthur's staring happened more frequently, Merlin started to pay proper attention and although he tried to think of the situation reasonably, in the end, he was left with the raw, undeniable truth. 

His feelings for the man weren't as unrequited as he thought. 

He knew it was wrong because Arthur had a family, he was a married man but the knowledge of Arthur's desire for him set his soul on fire. And fight as he might, he couldn't stop himself from letting Arthur know, with his own burning gaze, just how welcomed his subtle not-so-subtle ogling was. And how much Merlin longed for it to never stop.

* * *

A big part of Merlin, the reasonable, realistic one, had always known nothing would ever come of it, however mutual it was. That part was torn to shreds when Michael told him that his parents were getting divorced. Merlin sure must have spaced out after that, because he didn't remember what was said next. He just remembered the feeling of excitement and hope, buried somewhere deep inside him, but it was over-taken by much more intense feeling of sadness and worry when he thought of Michael and - yes, mostly - of Arthur. The whole family were such amazing people and now it was falling apart. 

Michael didn't seem particularly crest-fallen by the situation but it might have been just an act. 

Arthur was a different story. Despite his claims that things were better that way, Merlin could feel how the whole process crushed his soul. He couldn't believe that Gwen, sweet and caring Gwen, ran out on Arthur. Because of their mutual friend, on top of that!

Arthur explained that was not the case at all and Merlin did his best to believe him. After all, it was Arthur who knew the whole story and Merlin just got bits and pieces. Given his track-record, he didn't want to assume anything anymore.

As he listened to Arthur talk self-deprecatingly about himself, hearing how little he thought of himself, Merlin made an important decision to spend as long as it took to convince Arthur of the opposite. To show him how wrong he was. To make him see the wonderful person he was. 

Merlin knew he had found his one and he was determined to keep the promise he had made to himself. 

Until the end of the line. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. I wanted to finish this chapter on Wednesday but life (work) got in the way. I'll aim to finish this baby asap :)

“Mum thinks me and Michael are a thing,” Merlin says almost absently, eyes never leaving the TV screen and he grabs another handful of popcorn where it’s perched on his lap.

Arthur twists his neck to look at him so fast he nearly gets a whiplash. “She what, now?”

Merlin gives him a sideways glance, visibly amused. “She thinks we’re dating. I told her we’re not, so she must at least believe I’m secretly in love with him or something.”

“Why would she think that?”

Merlin scoffs, like it’s obvious. “Because I barely spend any time home? Because whenever I say I’m going to be late, she knows that I’m here? And because I sleep over once or twice a week?”

Okay, Arthur will give him that. It’s enough to build an assumption on. Assumption that’s completely wrong but also kinda accurate.

Merlin does indeed spend a significant amount of time at Arthur’s place. It’s usually once a week that he actually comes over to see Michael, because they are friends after all. Merlin’s mum doesn’t know this, though. She definitely doesn’t know that when her son stays the night, it’s in Arthur’s bed.

Merlin only sleeps over when Michael is not here. Naturally. He has his own room available at Gwen’s and Lance’s place too but he claims he’s not too excited about witnessing his mum being all cute with another man, even if the man is Lance and he’s known Michael since he was a baby, so he still prefers staying with Arthur.

Arthur understands this but can’t help but think it’s not the whole true. Honestly, he thinks Michael might be worried about him. Funny enough, he always texts Arthur when he’s gonna be home and when he’s staying with his mum. Arthur doesn’t know what gave rise to such a formality but he’s quite grateful for it nonetheless. That way, he and Merlin don’t have to keep looking over their shoulders.

Summer has come and gone and they only have one week left before new school year starts and Arthur already feels an intense sense of longing. He knows he’s gonna miss seeing Merlin so often like crazy. The past few months have been the best Arthur remembers, he’s been so happy and full of life, despite the ever-present tension that’s become somehow synonymous with their secret relationship.

He hates that Merlin is his dirty little secret. He hates that he can’t just take him out and hold his hand, take him to the movies and make out like teenagers in the back row. It wouldn’t even help if they went somewhere far away. People would give them looks, because they would assume they’re father and son, although they look nothing alike. Arthur hates all of it and doesn’t know what to do with it.

He knows Merlin feels it too, but the boy is much better at staying in the present moment and enjoying what he has. He makes every minute with Arthur count, never looks back, or forward, and Arthur loves him for it.

Yeah, shit. That was quite a revelation when he figured that one out. But it was futile to try and deny it when he made it so clear himself.

It was when Merlin told him that he was going on a little holiday with his mum, to Ealdor, his home-town, or rather - a village. While the place isn’t too small, Arthur is sure that with population of 400-something, it can barely qualify as town.

Merlin was so excited because apparently, that’s where his childhood friend was and they hadn’t seen each other in five years and Arthur wanted to be happy for him, and he was, he really was, but he was mostly disappointed. They hadn’t been apart for more than two days at most and now, Merlin was supposed to be gone for over a week.

Arthur didn’t know how he would survive it.

He did survive it, in the end, but he’s sure he must have made everyone at work hate him, considering what an ass he was for the duration of that whole week. He doesn’t know 100%, but he thinks he made someone cry as well.

It wasn’t just that he missed being with Merlin physically. He actually missed the conversation and the quality time the most. He missed Merlin’s smile, his silly jokes, his monologues about new breakthroughs in the medical field. He missed their banter, he missed Merlin calling him out on something, making him sulk and then making up for it with, well, making out until Arthur’s resolve shattered and he forgave him everything. He missed falling asleep with Merlin in his arms and waking up in Merlin’s arms and cooking breakfast together.

But yes, he also missed touching Merlin, and being touched by him. Merlin’s touch had always been equal to worship, at least that’s how Arthur feels about it.

So, no-one could blame him that when Merlin came over for the first time since he had returned from Ealdor, knocking at Arthur’s door with his sleep-over bag slung over his shoulder, looking as breathtaking as ever, Arthur barely managed a simple _hi_ before he all but hauled Merlin inside, to the living room, and devoured him right on the sofa until Merlin fell apart under him - four times, if he remembers correctly.

He knew he had never missed anyone in his life as much as he had missed Merlin.

He knew he was ridiculously, undeniably, completely in love, and that there was no going back.

A gun-shot sound from the telly brings him back to reality and to their conversation.

“So... does she want to meet him or something?”

“She already has.”

“What? When?”

“Oh, it’s been a while. Ever since she got the idea in her head, she's been pestering me to invite Michael over. I tutored him at our place a few times already.” He looks at Arthur quizzically. “You didn’t know?”

“No. Michael didn’t say.”

“Oh. Well, I guess he didn’t think it was important. I’m sure he visits his other friends at home and doesn’t tell you about it.”

“Yeah.” Arthur has no idea why, but he feels slightly jealous about Michael. Or maybe, envious is a better word for it. Arthur spends all this time with Merlin and yet, he doesn’t feel like being a part of his life, except being Merlin’s secret... uh, not boyfriend but... something. Or maybe boyfriend, he doesn’t know. He has no idea what he’s doing.

“I’m telling you because she wants to meet _you_.”

“Me?!” Arthur squeals, high-pitched enough that Merlin bursts into giggles, covering his mouth so he doesn’t send popcorn flying everywhere.

“Yeah. Michael has met my mum so she wants to meet his dad, keep it fair,” Merlin explains, sounding logical but it sends Arthur straight into an anxiety attack. “She invited you for lunch.”

“When?” Arthur croaks, growing tenser by the second.

“Whenever you’re free,” Merlin shrugs, seemingly seeing no issue whatsoever. And maybe there really isn’t one. Maybe he’s just over-reacting. That sounds like him.

“Is the invitation extended to Gwen too?”

“It is but I told her that when I’m gone, it’s at your house, not Gwen’s. And she knows about the divorce,” he gives Arthur a bit sheepish, a bit guilty look. “I hope I haven’t overstepped? It was actually Michael who told her but she kinda roasted me about it later and I spilled the beans.”

Arthur sighs, slumping into the sofa. “It’s fine. It doesn’t really matter.” He ponders the situation some more. “I can come over on Saturday. Better to do it before school starts. What do you think?”

“Sounds great,” Merlin smiles approvingly. “Won’t you have plans with Michael though?”

“He’s at Gwen’s this weekend.”

“Okay, then.” Merlin puts the bowl of popcorn on the table and twists his body so he can grab Arthur by the neck and surprise him with a kiss. Arthur’s body moves reflexively, tilting his head back and pulling Merlin by his arms.

“You know,” Merlin mumbles against his lips, “I talk about you quite a bit. To my mum.”

Arthur shudders against him. It should make him feel nervous, and wary. Just a slip of a tongue and they could both be royally screwed. However, he only feels strangely proud.

“Yeah?” he asks. “What do you say about me?”

“Ah, you know. Only all the terrible things,” Merlin teases and instead of retorting back, Arthur bites at his lip in punishment. Merlin moans at that and is about to climb into Arthur’s lap, when the door-bell goes off.

They both whip their head in the direction, then Merlin turns to him questioningly. “Expecting someone?”

Arthur nearly shakes his head, then remembers. “Shit. Lance,” he curses and Merlin untangles himself from him, letting Arthur get up.

“Gwen called because of some old pictures she couldn’t find when she moved. She must have forgotten them and asked if she could make copies. I said I would drop them off some day and she said she would just send Lance to pick them up. Today. I completely forgot,” he rubs at his eyes as he walks to the door, disappearing in the lobby and with a steadying breath, he opens the door.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling stiffly.

“Hey, mate,” Lance returns, giving Arthur a suspecting once-over. He smirks. “You forgot.”

Arthur laughs, relieved and a bit sheepish. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got the pictures ready, though.” He opens the door wide and Lance passes by him, heading straight to the kitchen slash living room, stopping in his tracks.

“Hello,” Arthur hears him say and steps beside him, seeing now that Lance spotted Merlin straight away. Merlin is still lounging on the sofa, the popcorn bowl back in his lap and he’s watching Lance with an expression Arthur has never seen on him before.

“Hi,” he says back, sounding cold and detached. It takes Arthur approximately five seconds before he figures out the reason.

 _Oh,_ he thinks. _He’s so protective it’s adorable._

While he’s busy staring at Merlin with a dopey smile, Lance is staring at him rather quizzically.

“Oh, right,” he shakes himself off. “Lance, this is Merlin. Merlin, Lance.”

Lance doesn’t drop the inquiring look for a few more moments, but then he too snaps back and turns to Merlin, walking over to where he’s seated.

“Nice to meet you, Merlin. Michael has talked about you. So has Gwen, actually,” he says as he out-stretches his hand towards the boy, Merlin not moving an inch. He looks at the hand, then at Lance’s face, then glances at Arthur. Arthur tries his best to convey what he wants to say in one look - _just play nice, Merlin -_ and finally, Merlin offers his own hand, his face a mask of judgement and indifference.

“You too,” he says, uninterested and retreats his hand swiftly. Arthur notices Lance squinting in confusion, biting at his lip, unsure if he should say something or not. Arthur takes pity on him.

“The pictures are in my office, if you want to follow me,” he prompts and jerks his head in the direction. Lance is quick to obey, rushing to catch up.

Arthur leads him to the office and leaves the door wide open for him. He steps to his desk, rummaging through the bottom drawer and pulling out one thick photo-album and a sturdy envelope with some loose photos.

“I think this is it,” he turns to Lance, handing both over. Lance takes them from him absently, seemingly in thought.

“Did Michael forget about his tutorial?” he asks suddenly, taking the wind out of Arthur’s sails.

“No?” he answers carefully.

“So why is Merlin here? With you?” he questions and fuck, it _does_ sound like an accusation. Arthur does his best to not trip over his tongue.

“It’s a thing we have. Sometimes he comes over to watch movies,” he looks up nervously. “Gwen didn’t mention that? We’ve been doing that nearly since Merlin started tutoring Michael. They became friends rather quickly.”

“Well, yeah,” Lance agrees but doesn’t sound convinced. “It was implied that the _three of you_ watch the movies. Given that... you know... Merlin is _Michael’s_ friend.”

Arthur puffs out his chest, standing taller. “So what, that means he can’t be my friend too?” And God, even to his own ears it sounds defensive, petulant even.

Lance narrows his eyes, clearly disapproving. “Arthur,” he says carefully and Arthur doesn’t like the tone one bit. “What on earth are you doing?”

“What?”

“This,” he gestures wildly, “is not normal. Nor appropriate.”

“Just what is your problem?!” Arthur bristles, raising his voice.

“Nothing is my problem-”

“Damn right.”

“-but it will be your problem if you’re not careful.”

“Careful? Careful how? What is there to be careful about?” Arthur demands, feeling his face heat up in shame and indignation.

Lance sighs, shoulders slumping. When he looks at Arthur again, it’s almost emphatic.

Arthur hates it.

“Arthur,” he says, losing the heat. “I know the past few months have been real harsh. And I won’t pretend that I don’t know I’m the one to be blamed.”

“That’s not-”

“Just,” he holds up a hand, “let me finish.” He waits for him to nod. “I know things haven’t been working out between you for a... long while. Not how they used to, anyway. But lets face it, the divorce? That was one nasty bullet to bite.” Arthur remains silent, unsure what to say. “So I know, I _understand,_ how ripped at the seams you must feel. And I’m truly sorry.” He places a gentle hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “But please, _please,_ however hard things are, don’t do anything stupid.”

Arthur clenches his jaw. “Lance, I truly have no idea what you’re getting at.”

Lance drops his hand, suddenly back to business. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re not nearly as upset about this whole thing as I thought,” he changes the tactic. “You know, we’ve been worried about you. Me, Gwen and mostly Michael. You took all of this rather well and at first, I thought it was just a facade, that you were actually falling apart on the inside, too proud to say anything.” Before Arthur has a chance to object, Lance continues. “It was quite confusing, because instead of shrinking in on yourself, you looked... happy. Happier than I remember you. You still do. I didn’t know how to explain it but I think I know the reason, now.” He looks Arthur straight in the eye and Arthur forgets to breathe. “I think the reason is sitting in your living room.”

Arthur takes a sharp breath, nearly wheezing. “I have no i-”

“Arthur,” Lance stresses one more time. “Please, just... whatever you’re doing. Please, please be careful.” He gives him a shaky smile and turns on his heel, walking back to the living room. Shaken to his core, Arthur follows. He expects Lance to make his leave but instead, he walks over to Merlin who hasn’t moved from his spot.

“Hey, Merlin. Michael tells me you’re crazy smart. You know what you wanna do when you finish in a year?”

Merlin startles at being approached like that, and randomly questioned on top of that.

“Um... I still got two years to go, actually.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “How old are you?”

“Turned seventeen last month.” Now, that’s news to Arthur. How could he miss Merlin’s birthday?! Why didn’t he know about it?!

Lance purses his lips, not liking the answer at all.

Arthur wants to smack him.

“I see. Well, still. What are your plans after that?”

“I’m hoping to get to KCL. Medicine.”

Lance blinks in surprise. “Really? That’s where I studied medicine, too.”

That finally gets Merlin’s attention. “You’re a doctor?”

“Neurosurgeon. What are you going for?”

“Not sure yet. Probably cardiology. Which hospital?”

“St. Thomas’.”

“That’s where the campus is!”

“Yeah, it is,” he smiles. “Look, if you need help with anything when the time is up, you can let me know. I’ll be happy to assist.”

“Um...” Merlin hesitates. “Sure. Thanks?”

Lance nods in acknowledgement and takes a few steps back. “Well, I need to be going. It was nice to meet you.”

Arthur accompanies him to the door, receiving one more, reprimanding look. “Smart kid,” Lance says.

“He is,” Arthur agrees in stern voice.

“Arthur. Just be-”

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?” He snaps, feeling only a little bad about it.

Lance sighs resignedly, but doesn’t push anymore. “Right.” He tries a smile. “Take care of yourself, Arthur.”

“You too,” Arthur returns and means it. They smile at each other briefly before Lance gets to his car and Arthur shuts the door, retreating back to the living room.

“Well,” Merlin starts. “That was weird.”

“Yeah.”

“So... this is Lance,” Merlin points out. “Are you two ok?”

“We are,” Arthur reassures. “We’ve been friends forever.”

Merlin scoffs. “Some friend he is.”

“Merlin,” Arthur says gently, sitting himself in his previous spot. “I know it doesn’t make sense but... things are actually ok between us.”

Merlin looks at him from under his eyelashes. “You’re too kind for your own good, Arthur,” he says almost sweetly and Arthur shudders in response. “What took you so long, by the way?”

He has a fleeting thought that he should tell Merlin about the conversation. Tell him that Lance has probably figured it all out.

He finds he doesn’t worry as much as he should.

“He was just checking on me,” he waves a dismissive hand, than narrows his eyes at the boy. “How come you didn’t tell me when your birthday came along?”

“Oh,” Merlin utters, looking away. “I didn’t think it was important. It’s just a day.”

Arthur groans in frustration. “Meerlin. It’s your birthday, of course it’s important!”

Merlin smiles affectionately. “That’s very sweet of you, but really. It’s nothing special. Mum baked a cake and got me a new pair of earbuds and it was great. I like it simple.”

“I just wish you told me. I would’ve gotten you something.”

There is a mischievous glint in Merlin’s eyes, lips spreading into a smirk. He grabs the popcorn bowl and pops it on the table, eyes never leaving Arthur. He buries his hands in the thin fabric of his T-shirt, tugging.

“Well, then,” he says huskily. “You can make up for it now. There are plenty things I can think of,” he taunts, brushing their lips together.

Arthur gasps against him, hands landing on Merlin’s thighs. “You are insatiable,” he mock-complains, letting Merlin kiss him properly.

“Hmm,” Merlin hums into the kiss. “ ‘s your fault. You’re too damn sexy.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Sure sounds like a perfectly valid justification.”

“I know,” he says smugly. “Now, what about my compensation?”

“So demanding.”

“You like it.”

Arthur smiles into the next kiss. “Maybe just a little.”

* * *

Arthur doesn’t remember being this nervous in the last twenty years. His palms are sweaty and he’s sure anyone who would happen to be in two-meter radius would hear the erratic pounding of his heart.

He parked the car in front of Merlin’s house (at least he thinks it’s the right one) about ten minutes ago but hasn’t been able to move from his spot.

_For God’s sake! Stop being such a sissy! It’s not like it’s the meet-each-other’s-parents date. You’re having a perfectly ordinary lunch with your son’s friend’s mother._

It sounds like bullshit.

He startles at the knock on his widow and is met with Merlin’s amused face.

“Are you planning on ever getting out of the car?”

Arthur scowls at him and at the way Merlin seems to take pleasure in seeing him squirm.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Only if you get out.”

Arthur does, if only to wipe his stupid smirk away.

“There you go,” Merlin exclaims theatrically, gesturing for Arthur to follow him before he gets a chance to tell Merlin where he can shove it.

“Mum! Arthur’s here!” Merlin calls once inside, shutting the door behind Arthur. He takes off his slippers and Arthur follows suit, bending over to unlace his shoes and leaving them behind, following Merlin further into the house.

They step in the kitchen, a brown-haired woman who must be Merlin’s mum approaching them. Arthur doesn’t think they look alike but there is definitely something about her that reminds him of Merlin, a depth to her eyes he noticed in Merlin too.

“Arthur! I’m so glad you agreed to come over. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says excitedly and is shaking Arthur’s hand even before he remembers to stretch it out. Her enthusiasm would render him speechless for a while under any other circumstances, but that’s another thing that she and Merlin have in common, so he’s already kinda used to it.

“Pleasure is mine, Hunith,” he replies, assuming that first name basis is a way to go in the Emrys’ household.

“I have to say, I was a bit worried that you weren’t coming.

Arthur drops his gaze, embarrassed. “Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be late but, um... I... got lost,” he mumbles and hears Merlin snicker quietly next to him. He hopes the blush he feels creeping up at the blatant lie is not too obvious.

“Merlin, didn’t you give Arthur proper instructions?” she turns to her son, squinting a little.

“I did but,” he bites at his lip, looking at Arthur sideways. “His sense of direction is even worse than yours.”

“Mind your tone with me, young man,” Hunith teases good-naturedly, making everyone laugh and Arthur feels his tension dissipating.

Then, the timer on the oven goes off and Arthur remembers why they are here.

“Whatever it is, it smells delicious,” he praises, earning a smile from Hunith.

“I’m glad you think so! I made lasagne, vegetarian version, obviously. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” he says honestly. Ever since Merlin started spending time at his house, Arthur made sure he had plenty veggie options in stock. It barely made a difference to him.

“Wonderful. Shall we eat now?”

“Sure,” Arthur says, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. “What can I help with?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. You’re the guest. Me and Merlin will handle it.”

“But-”

“Arthur,” Merlin gives him a pointed look. “You’re not gonna win this one. Better save yourself the energy.” And he pulls a chair for him, dragging him down.

Arthur sits down with a sigh. “That explains how you got so persistent. Like mother, like son, huh?” he shakes his head, smiling fondly.

“Damn right,” Merlin grins toothily and goes to grab three plates and cutlery. He and Hunith set the table in no time and Arthur’s feeling so out of place, despite the welcoming atmosphere, that he might crawl out of his skin. He tries his best not to offer to help again, just because he can imagine the annoyed faces it would get him.

“What do you drink, Arthur?” Hunith asks, as she fills his plate with more than a generous portion of lasagne. Arthur’s stomach cramps just by looking at the size and how he’s supposed to digest it.

_How the hell does Merlin stay so skinny?_

“Just water is fine, thank you,” he replies and watches as Merlin sits himself down with a glass of orange juice. It draws a chuckle from him because it’s so very... childish.

“Good to see you drink something else than coke,” he points out.

Merlin rolls his eyes. “The only time I drink coke is when I’m at your place. Mum hates the stuff, she would never buy it.”

“That’s smart, maybe I should follow her example,” he mock-threatens and doesn’t mention that he has been buying that shit because both Michael and Gwen love it and then Merlin came along so the habit kinda... stuck.

Merlin scowls at him, pretending to be offended. “You’re the worst.”

Arthur suppresses a chuckle and turns to thank Hunith as she places a glass of iced water in front of him, doing the same for herself. She then too joins them at the table, Merlin digging into his food first and impatient.

“Merlin!” Hunith chides.

“Aht?” Merlin mumbles with his mouth full and Arthur has to bite his lip to prevent himself from bursting into giggles. He already feels himself relaxing, Merlin’s presence soothing and comforting.

“It’s fine, Hunith. I’ve seen him do worse,” he waves a hand, smiling.

“What do you mean _worse_?” Merlin questions, suspicious.

“Do you have any idea how many popcorn kernels I dig out from the sofa every time you come over?”

“Hey!” Merlin protests, pointing his fork at him. “You’re not framing me with that one. I’m not the one who got so excited during The infinity war that I flipped the whole bowl upside down!”

Arthur’s face goes aflame. “I did no such thing! I just... tipped it a little.”

“That’s not how it happened at all,” Merlin doesn’t relent, holding his ground. Arthur is preparing another excuse, when Hunith speaks next.

“Oh,” she perks up. “Which part?”

“The one where Thor gets all his power back and arrives to Wakanda to save the day,” Merlin supplies smugly, taking a sip of his juice.

“I take it you’re team Thor, then?” Hunith turns back to Arthur but Merlin speaks instead.

“Actually, he’s team Iron man.”

“Oh, really?” Hunith says, surprised. “How did you not kill each other during The civil war?”

Merlin and Arthur groan in unison. Merlin’s obsession with Captain America is no secret. Arthur would be more offended if he didn’t find it particularly amusing that there is an undeniable resemblance between Steve Rogers and himself. Not just amusing - flattering, even.

“Please, don’t bring that event up again, mum,” Merlin begs, rubbing at his eyes.

Hunith’s laugh is full of mirth. “That bad, huh? I don’t understand what you get so worked up about. They are both equally endearing. But they have nothing on Natasha.”

“Mum ships her with Steve,” Merlin explains, feigning annoyance.

Hunith sits up straighter. “Don’t judge me. You ship Steve and Bucky.”

“Duh. It’s obvious there is something.”

Hunith rolls her eyes and refuses to engage in further discussion on the topic. It’s apparent they’ve been over this many times. Arthur thinks it’s funny.

“So, who does Michael cheer for?”

Arthur goes very still, very quickly. The simple mention of his son reminds him why he was invited here in the first place. Hunith wanted to meet him not because... because he’s somehow important to Merlin. No, she wanted to meet him because Merlin is friends with his son and she thinks there is something going on between the two.

He swallows down the bile that started rising up and Merlin, as perceptive as ever, must pick up on his renewed distress because he takes the reins again.

“Iron man, as expected,” he replies with false cheeriness, giving Arthur a meaningful look. Arthur takes it for what it is.

“Of course he does, because I raised him right,” he says with confidence he doesn’t feel and busies himself with his food instead.

“That’s debatable.”

“Oi!”

Hunith laughs again, oblivious to the tension enveloping them. “Interesting. But I suppose that opposites attract, right?” she says with an underlying meaning, giving them both a pointed look.

Arthur feels his throat close up with an unfamiliar, not-at-all pleasant feeling and balls his hand that’s not holding a fork into a fist. He dares a look at Merlin and finds the boy already watching him with understanding eyes.

“I suppose they do,” Merlin says softly, never steering his gaze away, and Arthur feels something inside his chest unclench and suddenly, he can breathe again.

“Speaking of which,” Hunith continues, “I’m very curious about your son, Arthur. He’s a wonderful young man. He hasn’t been over that many times but from what I saw, I can tell you’ve raised an amazing person. That’s very admirable, especially considering that you had him at such a young age. Michael told me you were... twenty-one?”

Arthur takes a few breaths to pull himself together. Yes, this is why he’s here. To talk about Michael. Not to have a mental and emotional breakdown.

“Yes. Me and Gwen were both in the middle of our degrees. It was... difficult, to say the least. But we were determined to make it work. And we did. My father helped a lot, supported us both until we graduated. We were very lucky.”

He remembers the shock when Gwen came to him, crying and scared, saying that she was pregnant. He remembers how much it cost him to not start panicking on the spot, to comfort Gwen instead, to reassure her it would all be ok, even though he didn’t believe it himself.

But they were ok, in the end. It wasn’t easy by any means but they got a wonderful child out of it so it was worth all the struggle.

Back then, he thought they would be together forever. That what they felt for each other was ever-lasting.

It wasn’t. But their friendship was and Arthur could hardly ask for more.

“You’ve done a wonderful job with him, though,” Hunith says, supportive and encouraging. Arthur can’t help but feel like a fake.

“I dunno about that. I never spent much time at home, not since I landed my first job after graduation. All the credit goes to Gwen. She did most of it on her own.”

Now _that_ gets Merlin’s attention and he barges in to deny everything Arthur has said. “That’s bollocks!” he argues ardently and Arthur’s heart jumps a little.

“Merlin! Language!”

“It’s true!” Merlin defends, turning back to Arthur. “You’re amazing as a parent and Michael adores you. And maybe he would like it if you were home more but that doesn’t take away from you being a good dad. A lot of families have that arrangement, dads working and mums raising the children. And maybe it’s not ideal but it doesn’t make you a bad parent, nor a bad partner.”

Arthur shakes his head, unable to find sense in Merlin’s words. “I don’t think I would be divorced now if that were true.”

“You’re divorced because Gwen fell in love with someone - someone she’s known for years, mind you - not because you’re not enough. You _are_ enough,” Merlin says and the conviction in his eyes when Arthur finally looks at him crushes all his protests.

Merlin sets his mouth into a firm line, expression as serious as Arthur ever seen it. “You’re more than enough, Arthur.”

Arthur blinks rapidly to push back tears. He doesn’t know how things got so deep so fast, but he feels completely lost and Merlin is the only thing grounding him.

Silence falls over the table and it takes nearly a full minute before Arthur becomes aware of his surroundings and whips his head to look at Hunith in panic. His anxiety grows as he watches her flick her gaze between the two of them, confused and very much in thought. She stares at Merlin for a while, tilting her head to the side and then settles her eyes on Arthur, giving him the same, intense stare. Arthur holds his breath and fights the urge to look away.

Hunith’s expression is unreadable and it only serves to unsettle Arthur more. But then something in her eyes shifts, a certain kind of gentleness coming forth and she smiles a little sadly. “I’m sorry to have brought up such a sensitive subject. I should have known better. I apologize.”

And now, Arthur feels guilty and stupid on top of everything. “No. No, it’s... it’s alright. It’s just... Sometimes, I doubt myself. If I could have done better, if it would have changed anything.”

Hunith nods solemnly. “I understand. I’ve been through something similar.” She looks down at her plate and Arthur knows she must be talking about Merlin’s father. He doesn’t know a whole lot, just what Merlin told him, but he knows better than to pry.

From there, they all take tentative steps to steer the conversation elsewhere. To Arthur’s job, to Hunith’s job, then Merlin’s and Michael’s plans for the future. It doesn’t flow as naturally as before, but it’s good enough.

Arthur offers to help with the dishes when they’ve all finished with their meal but once more, he’s dismissed so he decides it’s time to take his leave.

“I’m tutoring Michael again on Tuesday so... see you then?” Merlin asks when Arthur stands upright from where he was bent over tying up his shoelaces.

“Sure,” Arthur says simply. He knows it sounds stiff but he can’t risk getting all enthusiastic when Hunith’s standing right there.

“Great,” Merlin smiles, wanting to say something else but holding back.

“Merlin, honey, could you give us a minute?” Hunith asks and Arthur’s blood runs cold.

“Um, sure?” Merlin says carefully. “See you next week,” he confirms again and disappears inside the house with a small wave.

Hunith turns to Arthur when it’s just the two of them, Arthur doing his best to stand tall and confident.

“It was so lovely to meet you. Thank you for coming over,” she starts and Arthur can only blink in confusion.

“Uh, likewise. Thank you for inviting me in the first place.”

Hunith nods and gives Arthur a very inquiring once-over, making him feel hot all over and not in a good way. “Merlin has talked about you a great deal. I can see why he took liking to you so much. You’re quite... extraordinary.”

Arthur feels more and more lost by the second. _Is this a trick?_ “I don’t think that’s... accurate. I’m just a guy.”

Hunith shakes her head. “I sincerely doubt that,” she disagrees but doesn’t say anything more specific. “You know, I was so incredibly happy when I found out Merlin made a friend. He’s well-liked among people in general but he struggles to keep a friendship going. I think it has to do with his father. He doesn’t talk to me about it but I think he fears that if he gets too attached, it’s gonna be taken away from him, eventually.”

Arthur never thought about it like that but hearing it from Hunith, it makes sense.

“I’m glad he’s coming out of his shell. That he’s willing to take the chance of getting close to someone. I suppose he just needed to find someone who would be worth the risk, the potential heart-break.” Her eyes bore into Arthur’s as she speaks and he knows they’re talking about Michael but... it doesn’t feel like they are.

It doesn’t seem possible but her gaze intensifies further, like she’s staring straight into his soul. “But for the sake of all parties involved... I truly hope it will never come to that.”

Arthur knows from experience that looks can speak volumes but he’s never felt it as acutely as he does now.

He swallows over the lump in his throat and prays that when he opens his mouth, his words won’t come out shaky. “I understand. So do I.”

He has no idea what’s happening here but he knows that whatever he does, he must look and sound as genuine as possible. And eventually, the staring match comes to an end and Hunith is back to being the sweet woman she was when Arthur came through the door earlier that day.

“Glad we have that in common,” she says simply and, unexpectedly, leans forward to wrap Arthur in a warm hug.

“I hope we can do this again. I would love to get to know you better, Arthur,” she says, pulling away.

“Uh... yeah. Of course,” he stutters, baffled by the turn of events. “I would like that.” He finds he means it.

“Wonderful.”

Arthur grabs the door-knob with a shaky, sweaty hand and sees himself out. He slides in the drivers seat, getting the key in the ignition on the fourth try, putting the car in motion slowly and waves at Hunith where she’s still standing in the open door, watching him almost... fondly. It doesn’t make him any less nervous but somehow, he feels a sense of accomplishment. Like getting introduced to Hunith finally made him a part of Merlin’s life, officially. Like the only thing he needed was acknowledgement from someone close to the boy.

Maybe he’s the only one who feels the difference but that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to clarify that my stories don't necessarily reflect my opinions. I hope no-one was triggered by the talk about Arthur being more or less an absent parent. Justifying his behavior doesn't mean it's ok, it's all just for the sake of the story :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys, I thought this would be the last chapter and I meant to write a flashback and then get on with the rest of the story but guess what, I wrote two flashbacks, kinda forgot myself there, and look, I've got myself over 5000 words of emotional vomiting 😂😂
> 
> So, yeah, one more chapter to go. Sorry if the time jumps in this one are confusing, I actually wrote a flashback within a flashback - Arthur's is marked with an asterisk and Merlin's is in cursive. Hope it makes sense 😶
> 
> As for the next (last - hopefully 🤭) chapter, I'll aim to answer all your questions you have brought up in the comments - which includes Michael's and Gwen's take on the situation and which wraps the story up, giving it as much closure as I can muster 😅
> 
> Enjoy!🤗

Arthur’s phone chimes with an incoming text, the vibration traveling up his legs from where his feet are propped up on the table next to it. With a groan, he musters the strength to reach over but Merlin is faster and his arms way longer, so he gets to it first. He hands the phone to him without taking his eyes off of the telly.

“Thanks,” Arthur mumbles, opening the message window. It’s Michael.

_Heading to mum’s after practice, will stay the night._

Arthur bites his lip to prevent the dopey smile he feels forming.

_Noted. See you tomorrow?_

_Yup._

He switches the screen off, abandoning the phone and tilting his head to rest it on the back of the sofa, looking at Merlin lazily.

“Wanna spend the night?”

Finally, Merlin looks at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I take it Michael’s staying at Gwen’s?”

“Yeah, he just texted.”

Merlin huffs out a laugh, turning back to the telly. “Don’t you find it way too convenient?”

“What?”

“That Michael lets you know every time he’s either staying at Gwen’s or about to come over here.”

Arthur shrugs, not seeing anything particularly interesting about it. Yes, at first, he questioned it too but then, when he thought about it, he realized it made sense. Michael just wanted him to know his whereabouts, right? It was a responsible thing to do, too.

“Your point?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin purses his lips. “I just find it a bit odd. That he texts or calls you every time he’s gonna show up or not show up at all. I would expect that from a friend, not a family member.”

Arthur gives it some more thought, but still doesn’t see anything inexplicable. “I know what you mean but I think he just doesn’t want me to worry.”

“I suppose,” Merlin doesn’t exactly agree, but stops pondering it anyway.

“So,” Arthur starts. “About tonight...”

Merlin smirks knowingly, looking straight ahead. “Eager, are we?” he teases, successfully earning a scowl from Arthur. “Of course I’ll stay, you doofus,” he sighs theatrically, turning to Arthur and smiling. “Don’t I always?”

Arthur’s breath catches in his throat. He’s known Merlin for over a year now, has been in a relationship with him for seven months - the fucking best seven months of his fucking life - and yet, he has yet to get over the novel feeling that arises inside him whenever Merlin says anything even remotely sentimental.

Being with Merlin has only gotten more and more intense, and addictive, and wonderful, and unbelievable the more time has passed. Arthur doubts it will ever stop being that way. He prays to everything that’s holy it won’t.

It’s Friday today which means they won’t have to get up early, they can just sleep in and make breakfast and watch cartoons on the sofa, as they always do when Merlin doesn’t have to get to school. The second semester started just two weeks ago and once more, they had to adjust to Merlin’s new schedule, and Michael’s too. Arthur knows that Merlin still has one year to go after this one, but he hopes that when Michael’s in Manchester, starting the first year of uni, it will be easier to work around when it’s just Merlin’s schedule they need to figure out.

Arthur does feel a bit guilty that he’s kinda not so secretly excited for his son’s imminent departure but he can’t help it. The days he spends with Merlin are the highlight of his every week. And it’s not like Michael is attached to him, or to Gwen. He loves his parents, Arthur knows this, and they love him, but he’s a big boy and he will start a new life, away from them, in less than a year. And anyway, he’s gonna be in Manchester, not a different continent, hell, not even a different country! And he’s gonna visit and vice-versa. So... yeah... it’s all G.

“I washed your PJs after you left last week, so it’s all ready for you.”

*

Merlin used to bring a small bag of clothes whenever he was about to stay the night. It was more for show than anything else. He could have always left the clothes at Arthur’s but that would be... yeah suspicious. He couldn’t have possibly told his mother that he was about to spend a night with Ar- well, at Michael’s house and not bring a change of clothes, could he?

All those efforts and detailed plans were thrown out of the window when New Year’s Eve arrived. Naturally, Merlin spent Christmas with his mom. Arthur came over briefly to wish both him and Hunith Merry Christmas and handed over the presents he had gotten them (he had spent a lot of time thinking what to get Merlin so it wouldn’t looks suspicious, price-wise and such) and was dumbstruck when it turned out that Hunith had gotten him something too (an Iron man tee which just confirmed his theory that Hunith was as much of a dork as her son). He had come over for lunch or dinner a couple more times since the last time and it had admittedly got easier each time, although he couldn’t shake the strange feeling that always got better of him in Hunith’s presence. Like there was much more going on under the surface.

He went through similar procedure with Gwen and Lance (and Michael, technically, as he was spending Christmas Eve with his mom but stayed at Arthur’s on Christmas Day), except they convinced him to stay for dinner. All in all, it was quite a lovely Christmas, considering the new arrangement.

Anyways, having had spent Christmas with his mom, Merlin was allowed to spend New Year’s at Arthur’s - technically, with Michael. His son made plans with his friends and Arthur relented only because Michael promised he wouldn’t do anything stupid. He had turned eighteen in November so, legally, he was allowed to drink himself under the table - very much likely to happen considering the kind of people he was friends with - but Arthur trusted him. Gwen was a bit more cautious but eventually, she gave up. Plus, it gave her the advantage of spending the big night with Lance. That might have been a factor in her final decision.

Arthur was waiting excitedly for Merlin to show up. They had agreed on 6 pm, so he was - pleasantly - surprised when the doorbell rang at 4. He rushed to the door, opening them without looking through the peephole and pretty much froze on the spot as he came face to face with Hunith instead.

“Uh... hello?” he did _not_ squeak. “Is everything alright, Hunith?”

“Hello, Arthur,” she smiled, warm as ever, but there was something else too. “Yes, all is well. I just came over for a chat, before Merlin gets here,” she explained, her eyes boring to Arthur’s. “Can I come in?”

Oh, shoot. He was totally out of his rocker. “Y-yeah, of course!” He stepped aside and opened the door wide, letting Hunith in. She raised on her tip-toes to give him a hug, as she always did, which admittedly calmed Arthur down. He led her to the kitchen, about to offer a glass of... something, when it occurred to him that she would want to say hi to Michael too. _Oh, crap._

Hunith was standing with her back to Arthur, checking out the interior because... oh, yeah, this was the first time she’d ever been at Arthur’s house. Arthur didn’t see a point inviting her over for lunch as well, since he could cook only well enough to get by.

“You have a lovely home,” she commented.

“Thanks. I like it here, just... sometimes, it feels too big for me.” He bit his lip as he realized he had made it sound like he was the only one living here. “Um, Michael will be here shortly. He’s gone out with his friends,” he lied and hoped it sounded convincing.

Slowly, Hunith turned around, gaze no less intense than before. She smiled a bit sadly and Arthur had no idea what to make of it. “Is that so?” Oh, yeah, that sure sounded accusing as all hell.

“Ugh, yes?” Arthur stuttered. “So, what did you-”

“Arthur,” she said, voice not exactly stern but it still sent unpleasant shivers down Arthur’s spine. “Can we cut the crap?”

Well, shit. That was the very first time Arthur had heard Hunith utter anything even remotely resembling a swear word.

“What crap?” God, he sounded like an idiot.

Hunith closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath before opening them again. “We both know Merlin is a very smart boy. Who do you think he takes after?”

“I... Um...”

“Arthur.” She stepped closer, Arthur fighting the urge to take one step back. “I _know._ I’ve known for months.”

Arthur knew it wasn’t possible but he felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. “Know w-what?” _Deny, deny, DENY!_

Hunith narrowed her eyes at him, displeased. Arthur was sure she was gonna rip him a new one but suddenly, something in her face shifted and she looked more composed.

“Arthur,” she said a tad softer, “I like you. I really like you.” Ok, that was a good start, wasn’t it? “But if you fuck up, I won’t hesitate to disembowel you.” Arthur’s jaw hit the floor, first at the use of the curse word, then at the blunt threat. “You do remember that I’m a nurse, right?” Arthur nodded, seemingly in trance. “So you know I’m not kidding.” Another nod.

_God, what was happening here?!_

“Arthur.” Wow, that was way too close. Arthur must have spaced out for a bit because now, Hunith was pretty much chest to chest with him. “I meant it. I _do_ like you.” Arthur believed her because just like Merlin’s eyes, hers reflected the truth the same way. “But Merlin is my world. He’s my _everything._ And I want him to be happy, to be truly happy. And God help me, I think he is. He’s been happy ever since he met you.” Despite the situation, Arthur felt himself melt a little at the admission. “I want you to be happy, too. You’re a good man, Arthur.” Then her eyes shifted again and she seemed somehow taller and more threatening, the true display of the mother within. “But I swear to God, Arthur. I swear, if you hurt my baby boy, they will never find your body.”

Arthur didn’t remember what happened in the next ten seconds, but he turned from paralyzed to scared shitless to completely, utterly confused in that time and then, Hunith had her arms around him, pulling him into another hug.

“I’m sorry but I had to say this. You’re a parent too. You must understand how I feel.” Arthur registered her words only partly but he nodded regardless. Hunith let him go, seemingly satisfied. “Well, now that’s off the table - Happy New Year.” And she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Finally shaking himself of, Arthur replied, “Happy New Year, Hunith.”

Hunith smiled one more time and proceeded to make her way to the door. She was already half-way out when Arthur’s brain processed what had just happened a bit more and he managed to say his part, too. “Hunith!” She stopped in her tracks. “You should know that Merlin... That I... Um...” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say but Hunith seemed to pick up on it anyway. She was indeed strikingly smart.

“I know.”

And that was it and Arthur was left to his devices, his mind going into overdrive until Merlin showed up 6, spot on, taking in Arthur’s ghostly visage and asking what was wrong.

“Your mum was here,” Arthur replied. He saw Merlin open his mouth on a question and he beat him to it. “She knows. About us.” He waited for Merlin to freak out, to start babbling incoherently in panic. Instead, Merlin just uttered a small _Oh._

“ _Oh?_ ” Arthur repeated. “That’s it?”

“I... I know. I know that she knows.”

Arthur shot up from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter. “Excuse me?! How long have you known and forgot to mention it?!”

“I didn’t wanna freak you out.”

“Didn’t want to freak me out? Well, that worked splendidly, didn’t it? Because I’m the epitome of serenity right now!”

“Arthur,” Merlin said with raised hands. “Take a breath. Calm down. It’s ok.”

“How is it ok?!”

“Because mum is ok with it, too.”

That got Arthur’s attention. “She is?”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. What did she tell you?”

“She threatened to disembowel me.”

Merlin pressed his lips together, fighting a snicker. “She would, wouldn’t she.” Arthur was _not_ amused. “And?”

A bit calmer, Arthur thought back on the conversation. Well, the monologue, more precisely. “Well, she...” _Oh._ “I suppose... I suppose she kinda... gave us her blessing? I mean, she... she said she wanted you to be happy. And that... that you are.”

Merlin grinned at him, wide and genuine, taking a step closer. “I am.” He slid his hands up Arthur’s arms, calming him further. “Are you?”

“You know I am.”

“No, I don’t. You never say.”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Maybe to you. But believe it or not, I’m not as sure of myself as I come across.”

Now, that was news to Arthur. “Oh. Sorry,” he said, sheepish. “I _am_ happy. _You_ make me happy.” He let Merlin kiss him, pulling the boy closer, until they were chest to chest. “Merlin.”

“Hm?”

“Since when has your mum known?”

“Since the first lunch.”

“What?!”

_“So?” Merlin asked impatiently, fidgeting where he was standing in the kitchen when mum finally closed the door after she had seen Arthur outside. “What do you think?”_

_“About Arthur?”_

_Merlin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Yes, mum, about Arthur. Did you like him?”_

_In the back of his mind, Merlin thought he might get scolded for his tone but surprisingly, he only received an inquiring gaze. Hunith pursed her lips, seemingly in thought._

_“I did.” Merlin did an internal fist pump, holding back so he wouldn’t start jumping five feet in the air. “He seems like a very nice man. I suppose that’s to be expected, considering what Michael is like.”_

_Oh, no. Not that again. “Muuum,” Merlin whined. “I told you - we’re not an item. And I’m not in love with him.”_

_“I know,” Hunith said simply, putting a stop to any more protests. “I believe you.”_

_She was looking at him funny. Merlin loved his mum with all his heart but sometimes, she could be fucking scary. Not scary like... angry or mean but... more like... unpredictable. Sometimes, Merlin had no idea what was going through her head._

_Like now._

_“Well, that’s... good. That’s a relief,” he laughed a bit. “Will you finally stop pestering me about it, then?”_

_Instead of replying, Hunith changed the topic. “Merlin, tell me something. Do you miss your father?”_

_“What?”What does it have to do with anything?_

_“I know we don’t talk about him much. I don’t dare bring him up unless you ask but I can’t help but wonder... just how much you might miss him.”_

_“Um.” Merlin had no idea what to say. Honestly, he hadn’t thought of his dad in... years? Yes, he had missed him, or rather - he had missed a father figure - something awful when he had been a kid and he had seen other kids with his parents - both parents. But those times were long gone. He was almost an adult now and he had the best mum in the world. So what did it matter that his dad walked out on both of them? They didn’t need him. Maybe mum did, sometimes. Sometimes, when Merlin could see how lonely she was. But Merlin would take care of her. They would take care of each other. But really, Merlin was... ok. He liked his life._

_“I dunno, mum. I never met him so... hard to miss someone you never knew.”_

_Hunith sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know, sweetie. I just wish you had someone to look up to when you were younger.”_

_“I did, though. I had you.”_

_Hunith smiled at him, teary-eyed from both sadness and love, stepping closer to him and wrapping him in a hug. Merlin had always loved her hugs. They were so genuine, so full of warmth._

_“My sweet boy,” she cooed, cradling his face in her palms, calloused but soft at the same time. “I need to ask, Merlin,” she said solemnly. “Do you think you like Ar-, um, being around Arthur so much because he’s a father figure you’ve never had?”_

_Merlin cringed inwardly, and quite possibly physically too. “What? Mum, no! That’s... ugh. Mum, believe me. If I chose a father figure to compensate for the lack of it in my childhood, I would choose someone whom I don’t have the need to strangle every few minutes,” he shook his head in disagreement. “Don’t get me wrong, I really like Arthur. You know I do. But I’m pretty sure that our dynamic is not the epitome of the ideal parent-kid relationship. I mean, come on, mum - he’s team Iron man!”_

_Hunith smirked a little, Merlin growing suspicious. “Like I said before, sweetie - opposites attract.”_

_It felt like the temperature in the room had just dropped a few degrees, cold seeping into Merlin’s bones. “Uh... I... you.... what?”_

_“Merlin.” Oh no, here it comes._ _T_ _he third degree. “You’re the smartest person I know. I don’t mean just your intellect, or how well you do at school. I mean you have common sense and an internal knowing of good and bad. I’ve never doubted you would always make the right choice, in any area of your life. Because you live from the heart and that’s so very beautiful and so very brave.” She paused for a moment, musing over her next words. “But sometimes, I’m so, so scared that you’ll get your beautiful heart broken. It scares me to death. Because I know what it feels like.”_

_Merlin didn’t know exactly what was going on but he knew he needed to make it right. “Mum,” he whispered and this time, it was him who leaned forward for a hug. Hunith clung to him, almost desperately. “Mum, it’s ok. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself just fine. And my heart is doing great too,” he tried to sound cheerful, probably succeeding only partly._

_Hunith lifted her head to look at him, brushing the fringe from his forehead. “I’m glad to hear that. I assume Arthur is the reason why?”_

_Oh, God. Oh, shit. She knew. She fucking knew! What the fuck?!_

_“Um, mum?” he said, unsure, and she must have felt the erratic pounding of his heart against the ribcage._

_“It’s alright, sweetie. I know.” She caressed his cheek. “I don’t know how I feel about it. Yet. I only know one thing.” Merlin held his breath, waiting. “I want you to be happy.”_

_Merlin’s breath left him in a whoosh and he smiled a dopey smile. “I am, mum. I really, really am.”_

_“Then I am, too.” She pulled him down to kiss him on the cheek, then patted it and let go._

_“So,” Merlin started. “We good?”_

_“Yes, Merlin. We are. I trust you to always do what’s best for you.”_

_God, how did he deserve such an amazing mum? All dads in the world could suck it, his mum rocked!_

_“I won’t let you down.”_

_“I know.”_

_They smiled at each other one more time before Merlin turned around to make his way to his room, feeling lighter than air._

_“Oh, and Merlin?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Don’t forget to use protection.”_

_“Mum!!!”_

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Arthur complained again when Merlin finished with his story. God, Hunith had known ever since! It’s been like... oh, God... four months! Four fucking months! Arthur could’ve saved himself the sneaking around. Hunith must have been laughing at his antics all this time, knowing fully well what Arthur had been up to when he had thought how smart he was being, carefully planing everything, taking care of every little detail. Fucking pathetic!

“Honestly, I kinda thought you knew anyway.”

“How could have I known?!”

“Come on, Arthur. Haven’t you noticed how mum acts around you? She basically already made you a part of the family.”

Arthur thought about it. About the easy way he seemed to fit in Merlin’s and Hunith’s life since that first lunch, how Hunith always held on a bit longer each time he came over, how she had stopped asking about Michael and started interrogating him instead.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Merlin smirked, shaking his head fondly. “Welcome to the family, I guess? I mean, we pretty much got mum’s blessing. Now, we just need to get Michael’s.”

Arthur laughed nearly hysterically. “Yeah, sure. A piece of cake.”

Merlin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “You never know, Arthur. It might be just that.”

That night, when Arthur kissed Merlin as the fireworks started blasting in the sky, he felt something shift inside him, like a puzzle piece slotting in place. And God, he knew it was impossible, but he swore he could taste the next fifty years of his life on Merlin’s lips.

*

So... yeah. New Year’s was quite a breaking point and isn’t that poetic? New beginnings an all.

Well, it began with Merlin leaving his shit all over the place which then ended up being Arthur’s responsibility to hide from Michael’s line of vision.

Merlin has quite a collection for his sleep-overs at Arthur’s place. Like a toothbrush or a shaving kit - yeah, because Merlin’s hormones went haywire a few months back and if he doesn’t shave in two days, he starts sporting quite an impressive beginning of a beard. It’s simply more convenient than dragging the stuff with him all the time.

It’s incredibly tiring, constantly keeping stuff away from his own son, but it’s not like he can climb on a rooftop and shout it out, is it? He’s not sure what scares him more - what Michael would say to him or what he would say to Merlin. What he would do. He shudders at the thought.

“I appreciate you doing my laundry but I’ve got a feeling I won’t be needing clothes, will I, Arthur?” Merlin answers with a snicker.

Well, it’s most likely true, given the past experience, but Arthur turns bright red regardless. He’ll never get used to Merlin’s teasing. He can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. Probably both. Merlin has always been contradictory to him, in more ways than one.

“Quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Arthur shoots back, grimacing at his breathless tone. This could’ve been such a good come-back but his emotions always betray him!

“Statistically speaking, given my past sleep-overs, I’d say the odds are in my favor,” he wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly. It’s so silly and so endearing that Arthur can only smile like the idiot he is.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Merlin smiles wide, too proud of himself and climbs into Arthur’s lap. Arthur’s hands come to rest on his hips out of their own volition, like they’re meant to be there. It’s so natural and so familiar and so, so good.

Merlin locks his own hands behind Arthur’s neck, thumbs brushing the edge of his jaw. “Aww, come on Arthur,” he taunts. “You know you love me.”

His eyes widen comically as the words leave his mouth and Arthur’s sure his expression is not much better. The air gets stuck halfway on his inhale and a lump forms in his throat, heart beating erratically.

There’s no reason to freak out, is there? Merlin just meant it as a joke, just a part of his teasing. He didn’t mean it a serious question.

“I...” God, what does he say to that?

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I didn’t mean it. It was just... an expression. I know that you-- that you don’t--” he stutters, unhooking his hands and slumping where he’s sitting on Arthur’s thighs. Arthur himself is motionless, his hands still grasping at the boy’s narrow hips and despite the situation, it’s the only thing that’s keeping him grounded. “I know you don’t feel like that,” he finishes and he’s not looking at Arthur, choosing to shut his eyes instead. His hands are resting on his own thighs, balled up into fists and the way the space between his brows scrunches seems almost painful.

Arthur frowns, displeased, Merlin’s words spurring him to action and he tightens his grip. “Hey,” he says, soft but also demanding. Merlin cracks his eyes open slowly, as though it scares him to do it. “I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.”

“What?” Merlin blinks, uncomprehending. Arthur pushes away from where he’s leaning against the back of the sofa, straightening up and catching Merlin’s lips between his. Despite his confusion, Merlin returns the kiss almost on reflex, relaxing into it. He rests his hands on Arthur’s shoulders this time, deepening the kiss, hungry and desperate. A moan rumbles in Arthur’s throat and he pulls away regretfully, Merlin making a noise of displeasure. They can pick up where they left off later. First, Arthur needs to make sure of something.

“I said,” he clears his throat when the words come out raspier than he expected. “I said I thought you’re supposed to be smart. I’m starting to have my doubts now.” He hopes that Merlin gets it, so he doesn’t have to push himself further but it seems the Universe has it out for him.

“I don’t think I follow.”

Arthur sighs. “Well, now you’re just proving my point.”

“Hey! What’s that mean?!”

“Merlin,” Arthur says sternly but it sounds more like he’s begging. The boy stills in his lap, clamping his mouth shut. “I’m just saying... if you were really that smart.” Aaand, here it comes, ladies and gentlemen. “You would never let something so stupid out of your mouth.”

Merlin opens his mouth on what must be an objection, going to call Arthur out and Arthur curses inwardly at his inability to express emotions without sounding like a jerk. He braces himself for whatever is coming but then, suddenly, Merlin freezes in his position, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Arthur sees the realization literally sink in in his eyes and he holds his breath.

He does his best to suppress a giggle at the way Merlin gapes at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He doesn’t think it would be appreciated right now.

And then, a dam breaks as Merlin snaps out from his stupor, and he’s throwing himself at Arthur again, covering his lips with his and sucking all the breath out from his lungs. Arthur can’t do anything but sit there and take it and he doesn’t resist when Merlin presses him back into the sofa firmly, so he’s almost half-lying now, and why would he? He’s always been Merlin’s to do with him as Merlin sees fit and it only ever leaves him craving more.

Merlin keeps kissing him like a man possessed for a few more minutes, then he nearly jumps from Arthur’s lap and proceeds to sink slowly to the floor, kneeling between Arthur’s spread legs. He doesn’t give him much warning before he’s undoing the zipper and button of his jeans. His impatience has Arthur go from interested to fully hard in less than ten seconds.

“Merlin,” he breathes like a prayer, blue eyes meeting his.

“Why don’t you let me show you just how smart I am?” he smirks, eyes sparkling with mischief and what Arthur recognizes is happiness.

He doesn’t even register Merlin has managed to pull both his jeans and underwear down, not until he swallows him down in one go and Arthur’s mind goes blissfully blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any mistakes, I finished this on my break and edited just as I got home, and I'm kinda dozing off 😅


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, kids, it's here! I just loved writing this chapter, couldn't step away from the laptop
> 
> Just one thing: I will write an epilogue, with a bit of a time-jump, but otherwise, you can consider this fic complete
> 
> Thank you for your support and for pestering me to turn this into a series instead of leaving it at a one-shot. I'm glad you did!
> 
> Love you all <3

“Is something burning?”

“Shit!” Arthur jumps to the oven, opening the door and coughing as a puff of smoke hits him in the face. “Fuck me, I can’t believe I did it again,” he grunts, annoyed, pulling out the tray of charcoal veg and dumping it on the stove.

Merlin’s steps behind him, propping his chin on Arthur’s shoulder and looking down at the disaster that’s their dinner. “You know, I _am_ starving, but you’re so ridiculously cute that I can’t even be mad,” he presses a kiss to his neck to let him know he’s just teasing.

“Great. That makes me feel so much better,” Arthur retorts sarcastically but shivers at the sensation of Merlin’s stubble against his tender skin. “Take-out?”

Merlin sighs dramatically. “Well, what other choice do we have?”

“You can always make the damn dinner yourself, you know?!”

“I know, but where’s the fun in that if I don’t get to see you fret?”

Arthur is about ready to turn around and tell Merlin exactly where he can stick it, but Merlin’s already taken several steps away, browsing through his phone and accessing what Arthur assumes is Uber Eats.

“I’m craving a falafel bowl? What about you?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re addicted, Merlin. How many times in a row has it been, now?”

“You don’t understand because you’ve never tried it.”

Arthur opens his mouth to object, then changes his mind. “Fine, I’ll have one, too.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, impressed. “Huh. That was easy.”

“Are you saying I’m easy?!” Arthur squeals indignantly.

“I did _not_ say that. But, since you’re asking...” Merlin shrugs, a stupid smirk on his face and doesn’t bother finishing the sentence.

“Oi!” He throws an oven mitt at him. Merlin ducks just in time.

“Very mature, Mr. Pendragon,” he teases, bending down to pick up the mitt. Instead of another murder attempt, Arthur decides to be passive-agressive. It’s worked for him in the past. He walks over to the speaker where it’s been blasting some indie shit Merlin loves so much for the past hour and disconnects Merlin’s phone, turning his bluetooth on and connecting his own phone instead. He clicks on one of his favorite classic collections in his Spotify account and sighs in relief as the familiar tunes start playing.

“God, finally. A real music,” he exclaims, shooting Merlin a challenging glare. Merlin purses his lips - his gorgeous, kissable lips - and pouts.

“Don’t give me that look. We’ve been listening to that crap for the past hour.”

“You’re the worst,” Merlin complains and throws the mitt back at him, but unlike Arthur, he succeeds, bursting into giggles. “And you can’t catch to save your life.”

“That’s not fair! I wasn’t expecting it!”

“Duh. That was the point.”

“Shut up, Merlin, and help me clean.”

Sighing in resignation, Merlin does as told, taking a cloth and a cleaning spray and wiping the counters while Arthur begrudgingly throws their would-be dinner in the bin and starts scrubbing the tray. He’s half-aware that he’s humming along with the first song, _Walking in Memphis_ , as he always does when something good comes up but as the song changes into _Wanna dance with somebody_ , he also starts moving his hips side to side, rocking on his feet in tandem with the music. He knows it’s lame, but songs like this are just so contagious, and impossible not to engage in.

He suspects Merlin is laughing quietly somewhere behind him, he wouldn’t expect anything less from that little shit, so he jumps in surprise when Merlin’s large, warm hands grasp at his sides, breath hot where he mouths against the the back of Arthur’s neck.

“Okay, I’ll give you that. You have a good taste in music,” he admits, sliding his lips along the vertebrae, making Arthur break out in goose-bumps. “And I really like seeing you like this.”

“L-Like what?”

“Carefree. Enjoying yourself.” He wraps his freakishly long arms around Arthur’s middle. “Plus, you look really delicious, bouncing your ass around like that. Gives a guy some naughty ideas.” He laughs in his ear when Arthur lets out an admittedly embarrassing sound. “Dance with me, Arthur.”

“What?” he yelps, high-pitched.

“Dance with me,” Merlin whispers, lips brushing at the shell of his ear, and detaches himself from where he’s wrapped around Arthur in favor of taking his hand in one of his own, turning him around and pulling him flush to his chest.

“Come on, Merlin. I haven’t danced in... fuck, since my prom night,” Arthur protests but lets Merlin adjust his body as he sees fit.

“Well, I haven’t danced, ever. So no biggie,” he says with ease and takes Arthur’s other hand, placing it at his mid back, then puts his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “But I have a vague idea of how this works.”

And without further ado, he starts moving, urging Arthur to join in even though he’s supposedly in the leading position. At first, Arthur is hesitant, following Merlin’s moves but not making an effort to actively participate but as the song grows louder and Merlin’s movements become more daring, more confident, he decides to throw caution to the wind, regardless of how stupid it will make him look, and just like that, they are dancing.

_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody_

_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

_With somebody who loves me_

Merlin beams at him, bright and beautiful and earnest and so fucking happy and fight it as he might, Arthur knows he looks exactly the same.

They twirl around the kitchen, Arthur accidentally bumping his hip against the island at some point, hissing through his teeth and Merlin laughs at him at first, then kisses the pout away, making it better.

_I need a man who’ll take a chance_

_On a love that burns hot enough to last_

_So when the night falls_

_My lonely heart calls_

_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody_

His heart is beating like crazy and there’s no way he can tell if it’s because the dancing makes him so breathless or simply because he’s holding Merlin in his arms, is being held in Merlin’s arms and fuck, he wonders if Merlin knows, if he _truly knows,_ that he’s dancing with somebody who loves him.

It might be just wishful thinking but the way Merlin looks at him makes him believe that he just might.

He wonders if Merlin’s thinking the same thing about him.

_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody_

_I wanna feel the heat with somebody_

_Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody_

_With somebody who loves me_

At some point, Merlin trips, probably over his own clumsy feet, and Arthur is there to catch him, pulling him close to his chest, laughing uncontrollably. Merlin laughs too, uncaring of anything else, and picks up where they left of. The whole thing feels like a dream, because being here with Merlin, like this, it feels too good to be true.

He wishes it were just a dream when they slow the crazy spinning of their bodies as the song comes to an end, slow enough that Arthur is able to take in their surroundings and the bottom of his stomach drops as his eyes land on the very real sight of his son, standing at the door to the lobby and oh God, he didn’t even hear the main door open.

“Michael?” he chokes out, stopping in his tracks, still holding onto Merlin, firstly - because he’s too shocked to move and secondly - because if he doesn’t, he’s going to lose his mind.

Merlin whips his head around, following Arthur’s gaze.

God, Arthur should say something. He should insist that this is not what it looks like, that there’s an explanation. But he’s too shocked to speak and even if he could, he’s not sure he would say that. Despite his overwhelming fear, he couldn’t do that to Merlin. Not after everything they’ve been through.

And then, instead of lashing out, Michael just sighs, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Well, I suppose there are worse things I could’ve walked onto,” he mumbles more to himself, rolling his eyes at the two when they just gape at him. “I’ll be just a minute, don’t mind me,” he waves a hand and makes his way to the stairs, apparently intent of going to his room.

“Michael, what-- what are you doing here?” _Sure, Arthur, can you be any more obvious?_

Michael sighs again, turning to look at them. “I forgot to take my laptop with me before I went to school. I texted you like ten minutes ago.”

Oh, shit. He must have not heard it over the music. Stupid, stupid!

“Ugh...”

“Really, dad, how much of a heads-up do you need? I’m doing my best to always let you know, the least you could do is to check you damn phone,” he complains and without waiting for an answer, he walks up the stairs.

Arthur keeps staring at the spot Michael was standing at, hoping it will help him make sense of the situation. He turns his questioning eyes on Merlin who, although nervous, looks much more composed than Arthur. _Fucking unfair._

“I guess that explains all the texts and calls.”

“Huh?” Arthur can barely hold a thought right now so he has no idea what Merlin’s hinting at.

“You know, how Michael always texts you to let you know he’s coming home or that he’s going to stay at Gwen’s. Like he always lets you know his whereabouts.”

Oh, God. Merlin is right! But... that would mean...

No. Nonono, that can’t be! That would mean Michael has known this whole time! For how long has he known?! Oh God. Fucking fuck!

They hear a thumping noise as Michael makes his way back downstairs, carrying the laptop under his arm.

“See you tomorrow,” he calls and is about to walk out like nothing happened.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

¨Michael! How-- How did you...?” _How did you find out I was shagging your friend_ goes unsaid.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Michael asks with what can only be described as a bitch-face. Taking in their uncomprehending expressions, he realizes they _are_ serious.

“Really?” he huffs. “ _Hey, Michael, how’s Merlin? Is he coming over any time soon? What days is he tutoring you? Wanna invite him for Friday movie nights? Do you know what he likes to watch?”_ He drops his voice a bit lower, which Arthur recognizes is an imitation of his. He burns with shame.

Michael then proceeds to make his voice softer. “ _Your dad is really cool, Mike. What’s he like? How is he handling the divorce? Is he alright? Are you sure he’s alright? Is there anything I can help with? I can’t believe your dad loves Marvel, he’s so cool. Oh, he just told me this joke the other day, he’s so funny. What does he like to do for fun?”_

Arthur should definitely think about the seriousness of the situation, but as he looks over at Merlin who’s red to the tips of his ears, he can’t help but chuckle, just very, very quietly.

“I don’t sound like that!” Merlin protests, covering his face.

“Sure you don’t, Merls. And I didn’t just walk onto my friend and my dad dancing like two kids on a prom night to a corny eighties song.

“It’s not corny,” Arthur grumbles under his breath, barely audible.

“You couldn’t have possibly known just from those questions!” Merlin disagrees.

“Please, you’re so painfully obvious, it hurts to even think about,” Michael snorts. “But even if you weren’t, I’m sure I would get it as soon as I found _your_ ,” he points at Merlin, “underwear jammed between the sofa cushions, which, by the way - gross!”

If possible, Merlin turns even redder. “H-How did you know it was mine? Could be Arthur’s!”

“Sure. Even if dad could fit his fat ass in medium size--”

“Hey! Watch it!”

“--I’m sure you’d never find a single piece of anything that has Captain America on it in his wardrobe.”

“Oh,” Merlin quips, scratching at his neck.

“Yeah. So, if you two are done bullshitting your way out of this, I’m gonna go.”

“Michael!” Arthur stops him. “How long?”

Michael’s shoulders drop. “I dunno. I guess I’ve always suspected, ever since the movie nights. At least on some level. But I was in denial. So I wasn’t too shocked when my suspicions got confirmed. Don’t misunderstand me,” he points at Merlin. “I wanted to rip you a new one, especially after the divorce. I was sure you were just taking an advantage of dad.”

Merlin stiffens next to him. “Mike, I would never--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he waves a hand dismissively. “It wasn’t so hard to realize that you were serious about this. And then you,” he looks at Arthur this time. “You were just so... annoyingly cheerful. I’ve never seen you like that. Not even with mum.”

“Michael...” Arthur starts, guilt washing over him.

“I’m not guilt-tripping you,” Michael reassures, picking up on his thoughts. “Just saying. So... yeah.” He looks at them both and something in his gaze shifts. “I mean, I’m happy for you, both of you. I guess...” He frowns a little. “It’s still weird as fuck.”

They both let out a nervous laugh but it releases a certain weight from their chests anyway. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“ ‘s fine. Now, are we done here? I don’t really fancy making this any longer than it needs to be.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Just one more thing!” Arthur rushes to add. “Could you... not mention this to your mom? I’d rather... I’d rather she hears it from me.”

Michael looks at him with disbelief. “You’re joking, right?” he laughs humorlessly. “Dad, mum is a shrink. Do you really think she didn’t put two and two together?”

A chill runs through Arthur’s veins. “You-- you mean... she...”

“Of-bloody-course she knows! Dad, no offense but I don’t have the brains after you.”

“Hey!” And that’s second insult against Arthur’s personality. It doesn’t help that Merlin giggles next to him.

“I beg to differ. I find Arthur very intelligent,” he defends with a smile.

“That’s because you’re as dumb as him!”

“Sod off!” they both yell, making Michael laugh.

“Don’t get me wrong, Merls, you’re a beast at school but practically? You’re pretty useless.”

“That’s it, I’m unfriending you.”

“Don’t forget to update it on your Facebook,” Michael replies mockingly.

As much as Arthur’s enjoying the fact that his son doesn’t hate him, he needs some more facts. “Are you sure that she knows?”

“Yeah, dad. I’d say that giving Lance a talk about how he’s not to meddle in your business is a tell enough.”

Oh, shit. Lance...

How could he not see it? Ever since the first and _only_ time Lance gave him the third degree, about propriety and shit, he’s never brought the subject up again, pretending to be blissfully unaware. It didn’t even occur to him that he would tell Gwen about his... assumptions. And how did he not realize how easy it was to get Lance off of his back?

“Gwen told him not to interfere?” he asks with disbelief.

“Something along those lines, I think. Really, dad, how can you be that oblivious?”

“He’s oblivious alright. He didn’t even know I fancied him,” Merlin joins in with the teasing.

“Figures.”

“Are you two done?!” he pretty much squawks at them.

“That’s what I’ve been wondering for the past ten minutes,” Michael points out. “Can I please go? I can’t do this for much longer.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” Arthur says, sheepish. “And... thank you. For being so... um...”

“You’re welcome,” Michael nods in sympathy and turns his back on them before he disappears in the lobby. “Stay safe, kids!” he calls before the door clicks behind him.

“Michael Henry Pendragon!!!”

* * *

“I can’t believe this,” Arthur groans, putting his toothbrush back in the cupboard when he’s finished cleaning his teeth and walks into the bedroom, Merlin already showered and sitting on the edge of the bed, clad in his PJs even though he claimed he wouldn’t need them.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know he knew,” Merlin agrees, appalled by his ignorance.

“Now you know how I felt about your mum.”

“Excuse me, but that _was_ obvious. How could you have not known?”

“How could you have forgotten your underwear and not notice?”

“...Ok, point taken. But in my defence,” he lifts a finger. “Someone had probably sucked my brains out of my dick prior to that, so it’s not like I can be blamed for not thinking clearly.”

Arthur slaps his arm. “Excuses, excuses.”

He stands in front of Merlin, dressed in his favorite cotton sweats and a white tee. Merlin pulls his knees apart and grabs Arthur by his ass, pulling him to slot in the space he’s made for him and resting his forehead on Arthur’s belly.

“I know it’s weird, at least for now, before we get used to it, but fuck, am I glad that it’s out in the open. I hated having to keep this secret when the one thing I want the most is to show everyone how lucky I am.”

Arthur cards a hand through the black, silky strands, swallowing heavily. “Same,” he croaks, the word nearly getting stuck on its way out.

Merlin lifts his head to peer at him from under his eyelashes, resting his chin in the same spot. “We should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yeah. That we’re... you know... officially a couple?”

“Officially because people know?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm...” Arthur hums, pondering the suggestion. “How would you like to celebrate?” he asks, a smile in his voice.

“I have an idea.” Yeah, of course he does, cheeky little minx.

“Yeah? Well, are you gonna elaborate?”

“You know what I want,” Merlin says and it comes out a bit raspy. He fixes Arthur with a stare that’s not all that typical to him and it actually takes a good few seconds before Arthur knows the implications. He stiffens with a hand in Merlin’s hair.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“We have. And I let you have your way. Multiple times, actually.” He looks at Arthur meaningfully. “I think it’s time I have mine.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why? Don’t you want to?” Shit, he sounds hurt.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. Of course I do want to!”

“Then why--”

“Because you’re still so young!”

Merlin scoffs. “You don’t have a problem with anything else we get up to but you won’t fuck me?”

Arthur winces at the word. “I just don’t want you to regret it.”

“Why on earth would I regret it?” Merlin pulls away to look at him properly but keeps his hands on his lower-back.

Arthur grimaces at the painful thought that comes up. “What if you... what if you meet someone? Someone younger, someone better for you. And regret that you’ve given this to me?”

Given how Merlin looks at him, he assumes he probably sounds as stupid as Michael claims he is. “You _have got to_ be joking,” Merlin growls. “How could you think that?!”

“Merlin. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now but one day, you’ll... you’ll really be a grown up. You will have graduated from uni and you will start your career as a doctor and your life will be much different than it is now. You will have changed your mind about many things.”

“I won’t change my mind about you!”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that!”

“Merlin. I know it’s hard to imagine right now but one day--”

“One day, ten years in the future, I will laugh at you when I remind you how stupid you were being about this!”

“Merlin. One day, you’ll meet someone else. Someone better than me, and you’ll fall in love--”

“I _am_ in love, you bloody wanker! I’m in love with _you!”_

All the protest is squashed as soon as the words are out. “You-- you are--”

“In love with you, yes! For fucks sake, Arthur, what have you been thinking all this time?!”

“I... um...”

“God, please, tell me you haven’t been thinking this, all this time we’ve been together.”

“...”

“Fucking unbelievable,” Merlin stands up abruptly, starting to pace around the room.

“You thought I’ve been just stringing you along?!”

“No,” he disagrees. “No, I didn’t think that. I just thought that you... that one day you would...” God, why is this so hard to explain?

Something must give him away despite his inability to express himself because the fury on Merlin’s face disappears as fast as it appeared. “You thought that I would leave you one day. For someone else.” His eyes sharpen with understanding. “Like Gwen did.”

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, praying that he won’t cry. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to project my insecurities on you but... you have to admit, this is not exactly a... conventional relationship.”

Merlin opens his mouth to object some more, then promptly closes it. He lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging as the fight leaves him. He takes cautious steps towards Arthur, like he’s afraid he might bolt any second, slides his fingers in his hair and pulls him into a kiss.

Arthur recognizes it for what it is. An apology. A forgiveness. A promise.

“You still don’t believe you’re enough, do you?” he takes a guess, brushing a thumb over Arthur’s cheek. His silence is an answer in and on itself. “I suppose I will have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, then,” he says, all causal, but the mention of _the rest of their lives_ makes Arthur’s heart soar.

“That, ehm...” he clears his throat. “Sounds like a really long time.”

Merlin smiles at him softly. “A thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough.”

Despite his best efforts, he feels a tear slide down his cheek, Merlin brushing it away.

“Don’t you remember what I told you once, back when you were doubting yourself?”

“I think you have to be a bit more precise, Merlin,” Arthur tries for a joke, but it only makes Merlin frown.

“I said that if I were in Gwen’s shoes, if you were mine, I would never let you go.”

 _Oh. That._ He does remember. He remembers how jealous he was of that hypothetical person who would be so lucky to belong to Merlin. How ironic, huh?

“I... remember,” he confirms, smiling at the memory. “I never would have thought it would be me.”

“Well,” Merlin whispers. “Now you know. So you better make peace with it an accept your fate. Because you’re not getting rid of me.” And then, he’s kissing Arthur again, passionate and so damn possessive, like he wants to prove his point even more. Arthur doesn’t have the strength, nor inclination, to complain.

He wraps Merlin in his arms and gives as good as he gets, wanting to give himself over to the boy. And Merlin is greedy, taking everything Arthur has to offer.

“So,” he says breathlessly, lips still touching. “Can we celebrate, now?”

God, yeah.

Instead of replying, he turns with Merlin in his arms and pushes him to sit on the bed. Merlin goes willingly, of course he does, and he peers at Arthur, expectant and eager.

Arthur bends down to kiss him some more while his hands find the hem of his pajamas and start pulling up, tugging it over his head and shoulders, throwing it carelessly on the floor. And then, he’s sliding to his knees in front of the boy, hooking his fingers at the elastic of his bottoms and urging him to lift his hips up so he can pull them off as well.

_Seems like he won’t be needing those in the end._

“Arthur,” Merlin says like a prayer, pupils blown wide as he looks down at him. Arthur allows himself one smirk before he ducks down and takes Merlin’s half hard cock in his mouth, taking him in to the hilt. He’s done this enough times that he knows he can do this.

“Fuck!” Merlin hisses through his teeth, sinking both his hands in Arthur’s hair, pulling a little because he knows just how much Arthur likes it.

Arthur moans around the length in his mouth, the resounding vibration making Merlin’s thighs quake under his hands and without wasting more time, he starts sucking him in earnest.

He knows what makes Merlin lose it fast. And he goes just for that. Hollowing his cheeks, he starts bobbing his head, falling into a swift rhythm, adding just a tiny bit of teeth to it, just to rile Merlin up even more.

He’s not disappointed when Merlin’s whole body starts to tremble. “Shit. Fuck. Arthur...” he gasps for breath. “Wait. I-I’m... gonna...” He tries to pry his mouth off, but Arthur won’t have that. He wants Merlin to come in his mouth and he wants it now.

“Shit, Shit. Arthur!” Despite his original intention to pull Arthur off, he ends up pressing his head down, fucking up into his mouth, spilling himself onto Arthur’s tongue and Arthur just _takes it_.

He works Merlin through his aftershocks, then pulls off when he starts to go soft in his mouth.

“Why...” Merlin breathes. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I remember being seventeen and I know you’ll be ready to go again in no time. And, I know _you,_ specifically,” he smirks in satisfaction, then gets up slowly, feeling the blood rush back to his legs and he pulls off his own T-shirt, tugging his sweats down and stepping out of them.

Despite having had come just seconds ago, Merlin’s cock twitches as he rakes his gaze over Arthur’s naked form. It makes him feel incredibly good about himself. To be so desired by someone so beautiful like Merlin, even though he’s seen him naked countless times.

“Get on the bed, Merlin,” he orders gently.

“I’m on the bed,” Merlin objects weakly.

“Get in the middle, make yourself comfy,” he gives him a solemn look and he sees the moment it clicks in Merlin’s mind because his whole face lights up, lips forming a little ‘o’ before they stretch into a wide smile. Without further hesitation, he shuffles backwards until he’s horizontal, on his back, his head propped by the pillows.

Arthur walks over to the side, where the nightstand is, and rummages in the drawer until his hand closes over a bottle of lube - almost empty, shit, he must go shopping soon - and fishes out a condom.

He watches Merlin, body wound tight with anticipation, and climbs on the bed too, shuffling on his knees and urging him to spread his legs so he can fit in between them. Merlin takes it a step further, bending his knees and bringing the heels close to his body, exposing himself completely to Arthur.

“Holy shit,” Arthur curses out loud, Merlin laughing in delight.

“Well, here you see what you’ve been denying yourself all this time,” Merlin teases, making Arthur growl in displeasure.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Then shut me up,” he challenges with a glint in his eyes and fuck, Arthur’s weak.

“Hope you’re still so cocky when I’m inside you.”

Merlin whimpers at that, throwing his head back and reaching down to stroke his newly hardening cock. “You better make good on your threats, Arthur, or I will take care of it myself.”

Arthur smiles at his defiance, leaning forward to kiss him once. “Maybe next time.”

Merlin lights up at the mention of next time and lets Arthur get to work.

“I promise I’ll give it my best, but I’m sorry in advance if it’s not what you were hoping for. I’ve never done this,” Arthur admits sheepishly, although Merlin already knows.

“We’re both virgins then,” he jokes, but is actually right. “Take it easy, Arthur. It’s not like I have anyone to compare you to. And anyways, I’m stupidly in love with you. I’m sure there’s nothing you could do that wouldn’t end up being bloody spectacular.”

He doesn’t know how much he believes it, but it eases his nerves significantly. “Okay, here we go,” he announces as he squeezes plenty of lube on his fingers, giving it a sec to warm it up and then, slowly, reaching between Merlin’s spread legs.

His entrance, when he brushes the fingers against it, is terrifyingly tight and if Merlin didn’t keep on encouraging him with little, silly words, he would spiral into another panic. But for both their sakes, he does his best to keep it together. He owes this to Merlin. Hell, he owes it to himself after having denied them both so long, just because of his own insecurities.

He rubs a single finger against his opening and dares to push inside, just a little. He’s used enough lube that he slides in fairly easy until the second knuckle, gauging Merlin’s reaction and pressing further when he doesn’t protest. When he’s all the way in, he withdraws the finger before pushing back, just as slowly, Merlin letting out an appreciative moan.

“Fuck. Fuck, I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.”

“Yeah.”

“God, this is nothing like when I tried it.”

Arthur nearly gets an aneurysm. “What?”

“What?” Merlin lifts his head with difficulty. “Come on, did you think I haven’t fingered myself before, thinking of you?”

“Uh...”

Merlin lets his head drop back onto the pillow with a huff. “You’re unbelievable. If I told you all the stuff I’ve got up to, you would have a stroke,” Merlin teases, sending Arthur’s mind into over-drive. “Come on, give it to me,” he urges, shifting his hips when Arthur doesn’t move his hand.

Shaking himself off, Arthur does just that, pumping his finger in and out, cautiously adding another one when Merlin won’t stop pestering him. He sees him wince, just once, just a little, as he presses inside him with two fingers but it’s gone as fast as it came and then, Merlin is rocking back on his fingers again, his breathing becoming labored and shallow.

“’s so good... so good, Arthur. God, I can’t wait to have you inside me.”

Arthur whimpers, nearly losing his rhythm and this time, he’s the one to take initiative, adding a third finger with some more lube, just to be sure. Merlin resists him for the first few seconds and he nearly withdraws back completely but Merlin lets out a loud exhale, making himself relax and it’s enough to allow Arthur to slide all three fingers in. It’s a tight fit already but he doesn’t think Merlin’s in pain. He fucking hopes he’s not.

He takes a few minutes stretching him, until Merlin begins meeting him halfway again, making all those delicious little noises of approval, his chest flushed and blotchy.

Arthur’s never wanted anything in his life as much as he wants Merlin in that moment.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers completely, blushing when he sees how open it leaves Merlin. In return, Merlin makes a noise of protest, looking at Arthur accusingly.

“Are you ready?” Arthur asks, noticing how breathless he is, just from having Merlin spread out under him.

“God, yeah,” Merlin moans, spreading his legs impossibly wider. “Get in me already.”

Getting on with the program, Arthur tears open the condom wrapper and rolls it onto his own length with shaky hands. It’s the first time he’s touched himself that night and he hisses at the contact, suddenly worried he might not last long.

Regardless, he slots between Merlin’s thighs properly and Merlin hooks his legs over Arthur’s hips the moment Arthur becomes available.

“You have to tell me if you want me to stop.”

Merlin gives him a fond, if a bit admonishing look. “Never want you to stop.” And he pulls Arthur to him, making him brace himself on his forearms, bringing their chests together.

Taking one last, steadying breath, Arthur takes himself in his hand and presses the head against Merlin’s now slightly open hole, eyes never leaving Merlin. He gives him a questioning look, getting a resolute nod in answer.

“Do it.”

Arthur presses forward, just a little, just to try it, and chokes on an inhale when the tip pops right in without much resistance. Encouraged by that, he shifts on his knees and slides in further, steady and slow, until his thighs are flush with Merlin’s ass.

“Fuck,” Merlin breathes, shaking in Arthur’s arms and for a minute, he almost panics, before he realizes that it’s not because of pain.

“O-okay?” he asks, stuttering and receives a vigorous nod.

“God, Arthur. You’re... Fuck...”

“Yeah...” Because what else can he say to that?

“Move,” Merlin prompts and Arthur obliges. The rocking of his lips is slow and careful at first, but as Merlin starts grunting impatiently, lifting his hips and pushing down to make Arthur get on with it properly, it isn’t long before he’s pretty much pounding into Merlin, not too hard, but hard enough it hoists him up on the bed.

“Fuck. Fuck, Arthur. Just-- Just like that. God, just like that.”

He bends down to swallow Merlin’s words and moans and the shift in the angle drives him straight into a spot that has Merlin scream in pleasure.

“Oh my God!” he yells in Arthur’s ear. “There! Do it again! Keep doing that!” he orders and unable to deny him anything anymore, Arthur does.

Gone is all his restraint and soon enough, it’s nothing more but desperate grinding. Merlin’s tight around him like a vice and he feels Merlin’s cock rub against his stomach where they are pressed together, hot and throbbing.

“Arthur. Arthur, I’m... I’m gonna come. Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Yes,” he snaps his hips even harder, making Merlin yell something incoherent. “Come for me. Come on, Merlin, just come for me.”

It takes only a handful of well measured thrusts into the same spot and then, Merlin is clenching almost painfully around him, spilling onto his and Arthur’s stomach, wet and sticky and Arthur follows only seconds after, the impossible tightness of Merlin squeezing around him sending him over the edge.

He buries his head into the crook of Merlin’s neck, working himself inside him until he’s fully spent and Merlin circles his arms around his neck, keeping him in place.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asks against his skin, not recognizing his voice.

He feels a laugh rumble in Merlin’s chest. “Holy fuck, that was incredible. I’m so mad at you right now. We could’ve been doing that for ages!”

Arthur groans at the complaint, lifting his head and squinting at Merlin. “So ungrateful. There’s just no pleasing you sometimes, is there?”

Merlin gives him a wicked smile. “Oh, there definitely is a way to please me. You just have to do it repeatedly. Especially now, to make up for the lost time.”

“Ugh,” Arthur drops his forehead back on his chest. “You’re forgetting I’m not twenty anymore. My dick is gonna fall off.”

“So dramatic,” Merlin clicks his tongue. “You just need to work up the stamina.”

“I have a suspicion you’re gonna volunteer to be my trainer.”

“Hmm, you’re not as dumb as it seems.”

“Hey!”

Merlin kisses him then, swallowing his protests. “Really, though,” he says more solemnly. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“So...” Merlin starts and Arthur doesn’t like the tone one bit. “How long before you can go again?”

“For fucks sake, Merlin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited that I haven't even edited this properly yet so excuse any mistakes, I'll have a look later in the day :)


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **One and a half year later**
> 
> This is already way too long for an epilogue but I did my best to compress it and to finally give the whole story some closure (although I ended up with an open ending anyway :D FML, lol. Let your imagination run wild!)

“Have you got a suit yet?”

“Don’t need it,” Merlin replies, voice muted where his face is smushed into Arthur’s chest, dozing off. Arthur’s carding his fingers through the boy’s hair lazily, Merlin nearly purring at the sensation. “Not going.”

“Come again?” Arthur frowns, ceasing the motion of his hand. Did he hear wrong?

”I’m not going to the prom.”

Nope, he heard just right. “Why the hell not?” he questions, pulling at his hair instead to prompt him to look up at Arthur. Merlin does so, but shoots him an unimpressed glare, eyes glazed over with sleepiness.

“What’s the point?” he asks as though the answer should be painfully obvious.

“The point is you’re supposed to celebrate getting out of high school after having survived all those years in there and getting on with your life.”

“Really? And here I thought it’s to get hammered and hook up with someone whose name you won’t even remember in the morning and proceed to blame it on the alcohol. Believe it or not, but I’m not interested in either.”

And wow, how does Merlin do it, always managing to make Arthur feel like he’s the teenager and Merlin the grown up.

He sighs, sympathetic. “Just because others do it doesn’t mean you can’t go and have fun in your own way.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Just... catching up with friends? Dancing?” He snorts a little as he recalls vividly how clumsy Merlin is and how funny he looks when he attempts anything even remotely resembling dancing.

“The only friend I fancy talking to is Gwaine and he’s one of those twats who will get smashed and shag anything on two legs.”

Arthur tightens his arms around Merlin, pulling him to himself possessively. He’s met Gwaine once or twice and safe to say, he did not appreciate how grabby he was around his boyfriend. Appreciated it even less when Gwaine proceeded to give Arthur a very unconcealed once-over, shooting him a wink and not-at-all whispering to Merlin that if either of them would be amenable, he would be up for a three-way.

Merlin told Arthur that Gwaine was the only person in his life, apart from Hunith and Michael of course, who knew about their relationship. For some reason, Merlin trusted him and Arthur, well, he trusted Merlin and his judgement. He actually thought it would be nice that someone in Merlin’s extremely small circle of friends knew about them. He very much changed his mind upon meeting Gwaine. Unfortunately, it was too late. The ship had sailed.

“I don’t want that kid anywhere near you when he’s drunk out of his ass.” He doesn’t mention that he would prefer Gwaine far away on regular basis. But Merlin likes the wanker and Arthur wants him to be happy, so...

Merlin lets out an amused huff. “Not exactly a kid, Arthur. He’s a year older than me too.”

“Irrelevant.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlin humors him. “So... now you know. Why I’m not going.”

“Does your mum know?”

“Of course she knows. Gave me a speech, too. Although she’s admittedly more frightening than you, I didn’t budge.”

Oh, yes, Hunith is frightening alright.

“You could still go, you know. Just for a little bit?” Arthur tries one more time just because he wants Merlin to have fun. It’s his fucking prom!

“No, I don’t think I will. What’s the point if I can’t take the one person I want?” Merlin grows more solemn as he speaks and Arthur feels his heart jump in his chest. Which means Merlin must feel it too.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, squeezing Merlin to him tighter. “Sap.”

Merlin pinches the soft skin of his side in revenge, making him yelp. “Don’t be an ass, Arthur,” he complains without heat and returns his head to rest on Arthur’s chest, sighing contentedly. “Can we drop it now?”

Arthur is silent for a minute, mind whirling with ideas. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” Merlin mumbles, burrowing his nose further in Arthur’s tee. “Night, Arthur.”

Arthur strains his neck to press a kiss to Merlin’s hair. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

Even as he lets sleep overtake him, he’s already formed a plan, determined to give Merlin the prom night he deserves.

* * *

“A nice piece but it might be just a tiny bit small on you.”

Arthur’s not proud to admit that he lets out a high-pitched squeal, but the familiar voice so close to him nearly makes him jump out of his skin.

“For fucks sake, Gwen, you can’t sneak on people like that!” he complains, squinting at his ex-wife’s amused face.

“So dramatic,” she smiles. “Seriously, though, what’s with the suit? Isn’t your wardrobe bursting with those? And don’t take it personally, but there’s no way you’re gonna squeeze into this.”

Arthur ignores the jab at his weight. He’s been going to the gym diligently, there’s not much more he can do! “It’s not for me.”

Gwen’s eyebrows lift and she tilts her head, regarding the suit imploringly. “Oh.”

“Ah, there you are, honey. What do you think of this one?” calls a voice from behind Gwen and Arthur recognizes Lance, approaching them both, carrying a suit as well. He stops in his tracks when he takes notice of him.

“Oh, hey!” he greets, suspiciously nervous. “How are you, Arthur?”

“I’m good,” he answers automatically, gauging the situation he’s found himself in. “What’s the occasion?”

Lance gives him a wide-eyed look, briefly glancing at Gwen. “Oh, well... There’s this thing...” he explains vaguely, making Arthur even more suspecting.

Gwen sighs next to him and rolls her eyes. “Smooth, babe,” she mocks, then looks at Arthur with sort of a sad smile. “We wanted to tell you and Michael at once, and in person.” She takes a breath, squaring her shoulders and Arthur already knows what’s coming. “We’re getting married.”

Next to her, Lance releases a whiny noise of protest, ducking his head.

“Oh,” Arthur says, chewing on the inside of his cheek because how the hell does one react to this?

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” Lance rushes to say. “We haven’t been trying to keep it from you, I swear. We just wanted the timing to be right and--”

Arthur holds up a hand, trying for a smile. “Lance, take it easy, mate. It’s fine.” Lance doesn’t look convinced. “I mean it. I am... happy for you. It does feel a bit weird but... that’s to be expected, I guess.” he explains and finds he means it. Lance still looks doubtful but Gwen is positively beaming at him and before he knows what’s happening, she’s pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers to his ear. “You have no idea how much that means to me. To both of us,” she stresses, eyes glassy when she pulls away.

“Well, I suppose it’s time to return the courtesy you’ve given me,” he shrugs and is relieved when he doesn’t have to explain himself further, judging by the softening of Gwen’s eyes.

“You know, even after all those years, even after all that’s changed, this is one thing that’s constant about you - you’re still the kindest person I’ve ever known.”

Arthur is this close to tearing up, which is absolutely unacceptable. He thanks all the deity that Gwen still recognizes the signs and takes pity on him. “So...” she starts. “The suit?”

“Ah,” he startles like he just remembered why he’s here in the first place. “I’m picking one for Merlin.” He knows he’s smiling like a love-struck girl as he speaks of the boy but strangely enough, it doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it should. As it would have, not so long ago.

To his dismay, he hears Lance grunt in disapproval, a crease between his brows.

Lance is the one person who has a truly hard time getting over the fact that Arthur and Merlin are in an actual, commited relationship. Which is kinda ironic, given he has absolutely no connection to Merlin, none at all.

Arthur can’t really blame him. If it was the other way around, he probably wouldn’t deal much better. And it’s not like Lance is... judgmental, per se. He’s one of the most accepting and emphatic people Arthur’s ever met but unfortunately, he’s also annoyingly righteous. His otherwise endearing high morals and unwavering integrity are a pain in Arthur’s ass right now. He would be willing to let it slide, under any other circumstances, but Lance _knows_ the truth. He’s heard it from him, from Gwen, hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Michael put a word in for him too. So why does he keep giving Arthur such a hard time?

He puffs out his chest, biting back a nasty retort. “Something you wanna share, Lance?” he hisses, gripping at the fabric to anchor himself.

Lance trips over his words, trying to apologize and explain himself, when Gwen, _God bless her,_ stops the gibberish with a hand to his shoulder.

“Do you want to have a look at some more suits, maybe?” she offers but it sounds more like an order. Lance, of course, gets it straight away and obeys without question.

“Y-yeah, good idea.” He shoots an apologetic glance to Arthur. “Talk to you later?”

“Sure,” he agrees, relaxing a bit when Lance makes his leave.

“I’m sorry about him,” Gwen says when they’re alone. “He just... he has a really hard time taking the whole... arrangement on board.”

“Arrangement?” he repeats with barely concealed disgust. “He doesn’t need to worry about anything, because this _arrangement_ is none of his business. Merlin is free to make his own decisions.” Arthur knows he sounds petulant but he can’t keep the bitterness at bay. He only gets confused when Gwen lets out a humorless laugh.

“You think this is about Merlin?”

Well... duh? Merlin was still a kid when they got together. Lance made it obvious even back then what he thought of it. Of _Arthur._ What else could it be about?

“Oh, Arthur,” Gwen says, sympathetic. “This is not about Merlin. Lance is worried about _you.”_

Wait, what?

“Me? Why?”

“Really?” Gwen huffs in disbelief. “Arthur, you’ve been friends for ages. You’re like a brother to him. Of course he’s worried about you!”

“But why? Merlin’s mum knows about us, you know about us, and despite how we started, Merlin is eighteen. Nineteen next month.”

“This is not about legal issues, Arthur. This is about your heart.”

“My heart?” he echoes, uncomprehending. “How so?”

Gwen smiles at him sadly. “Arthur.” Oh, no, he doesn’t like it when she says his name like that. “I know how you feel about Merlin. We all do. You’re forgetting how long I’ve known you. And how long we had been married. And in that time, I don’t remember you ever looking at me like you look at him.”

Naturally, Arthur’s first instinct is to deny that, but how can you bullshit a person you spent half your life with, who knows you better than anyone else?

“Okay. So?” he tries for indifference.

“So,” Gwen repeats. “He’s worried you’re gonna get your heart broken.” _Again_ goes unsaid, but Arthur hears it regardless.

“He feels guilty, doesn’t he?” Arthur realizes.

Gwen sighs. “It’s been difficult to try to make him see how it truly is. I don’t think he will ever come to understand it fully.”

Despite his persisting annoyance, Arthur feels for him. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe it will help,” he promises and Gwen’s face lights up with gratitude. “But it can’t be that bad if he asked you to marry him.”

This time, Gwen’s laugh is full of mirth. “Yeah. No. I found the ring before he managed to propose.”

“What?”

“The idiot had had the ring for months! But was too anxious and guilt-ridden to ask me!” she exclaims, shaking her head. “And I was tired of waiting so one day, I just brought it up.”

Arthur lets out a chuckle. “So... you proposed to him?”

Gwen ponders the question for a minute, the realization dawning on her. “Oh my God, you’re right! I so did!”

“Figures,” Arthur joins in. “On that note, when is the wedding?”

“Oh. Early September, before Michael leaves to Manchester again. We’ll announce the exact date soon.”

“Wow. Cutting it close, aren’t you?”

Gwen waves a hand dismissively. “It’ll be fine. We only want a small wedding, just our closest friends and family.” She smiles at Arthur. “Will you bring Merlin with you?”

“You want me there?” Arthur asks, stunned.

“Are you kidding? Of course we do!” Gwen nearly yells in indignation. “In fact,” she drops her voice. “I think Lance wants you to be his best man but can’t bring himself to ask.”

For a minute, Arthur spaces out. Gwen and Lance are getting married. His ex-wife and his friend are getting married. His friend wants him to be the best man. Lance was Arthur’s best man.

God, this is fucked up.

“Um...”

“Don’t feel pressured to say yes. Actually, don’t feel pressured to attend.” And shit, she sounds almost devastated. “I just thought you should know.”

“Okay,” Arthur says carefully. “I’ll... think about it.”

Gwen smiles at him but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “So, the suit is for Merlin, huh?” she changes the topic and Arthur is grateful. “What’s the occasion?”

* * *

“Oh my God, mum! Why would you buy me a suit? I told you I’m not going!” Merlin flips when he opens the box Hunith handed him, only to reveal an expensive looking piece. There another, smaller box Merlin assumes contains shoes to go together. “The prom has already started anyway!”

“It’s not from me,” she says simply, looking just as smug as she sounds. “Now, go to your room and change. And for the love of everything that’s holy, brush your hair for once.”

“But mum-”

“Merlin!” Hunith chastises. “I don’t care you’re eighteen-”

“Almost nineteen!”

“-but I’m still your mother and as long as you live under my roof, you will do as I say. Now,” she claps her hands. “Up you go! Put the suit on!”

Preparing a retort, Merlin deflates at the adamant look on his mum’s face, ducking his head.

“This is so stupid,” he grumbles, turning his back on her and making his way up.

“I heard that!”

“You were meant to!”

* * *

“Satisfied?” Merlin spreads his arms mockingly when he’s put the suit on, just as instructed. He can’t deny that while the fabric feels foreign on his body, a bit constricting and quite heavy, it also fits him like a glove. And... he might have... checked himself in the mirror... quite thoroughly...

Has his ass always looked this good?

“Oh, sweetie,” Hunith nearly sobs, covering her lips with her palms and Merlin rolls his eyes.

“Care to tell me what this is about?”

As if on cue, the door-bell rings and Merlin is only more confused when Hunith walks over to open the door without a single sign of surprise at the unexpected guest.

Merlin’s breath gets stuck in his throat when the door reveals Arthur, standing on the threshold, clad in a similar looking suit and - _oh, fuck_ \- holding a single red rose.

“Heya,” he greets, shy but happy and steps inside.

Merlin is rooted to the spot, speechless and eyes wide.

“Oh, Arthur, you look lovely,” Hunith praises, lifting herself up to give him a hug that Arthur automatically reciprocates. He’s done this plenty of times for it to have become a second nature.

“Thank you. And thank you for giving me a hand with this.”

“Oh, please. It’s a pleasure.”

“Guys?” Merlin finally finds his voice. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

Instead of answering, Arthur closes the distance between them, handing him the rose, and pecks him on the lips, chaste and sweet. Just because Hunith is supportive of their relationship doesn’t mean they have to fling it in her face. Yeah, no, that would be weird as hell.

“I thought, since you’re not going to the prom, we could have one of our own.” Arthur’s voice is light but Merlin knows him too well by now to miss the nervous shake in it.

“You... you did this? For me?”

Arthur smiles sheepishly, shuffling his feet. _God, he’s adorable_. “You said there was no point going if I won’t be there. Well, now I am.”

Merlin blinks rapidly to push back tears, then throws his arms over Arthur’s neck, pulling him into a crushing hug.

“Arthur, you hopeless sap,” he laughs into his ear, earning a scowl.

“Hey! That’s my line!” Arthur objects and tries to pull away but Merlin doesn’t let him.

“I suppose the sappiness is contagious then,” Merlin muses, pressing a discreet kiss to his hair. Arthur shivers in his arms and then, a flash hits them, making their vision go spotty for a bit. They pull apart and turn to stare at Hunith who’s, in fact, holding a camera.

“Aww, you’re so cute.”

“Mum!” Merlin admonishes.

“What? I’ve never seen you in a suit.”

He rolls his eyes, turning back to Arthur and feels his lips stretch on a smile.

“Our own prom, huh?” he says. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Arthur promises mysteriously and offers his hand for Merlin to take. Merlin doesn’t hesitate and follows him to his car.

“Make sure he’s back before midnight, Arthur!” Hunith calls to them with humor.

“Actually,” Merlin starts. “I think I’ll sleep over.” He looks at Hunith, then at Arthur who’s red to the tips of his ears, then back at Hunith, seeing her sigh dramatically.

“Kids these days,” she shakes her head fondly. “Enjoy yourselves, boys,” she waves and closes the door.

“Boys?” Arthur grumbles under his breath, drawing a chuckle from Merlin.

“Don’t you feel younger when you’re with me?” he jokes, climbing into the car, Arthur following suit.

“Hell, no. If anything, I feel like an old perv:’

“Hm,” Merlin pretends to think. “Maybe I just have a kink.”

Arthur slaps his arm. “Just shut up, Merlin.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Merlin asks as they pull up in front of a posh looking restaurant in a part of London he’s never been to.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Aren’t you worried people are gonna stare?” Merlin doesn’t give a flying fuck what people think but Arthur... Arthur is different. He has more on the line than Merlin.

“I called in some favors since I’m friends with the owner and we have the whole backyard reserved for us. No one will bother us, I promise,” he nods at Merlin reassuringly, reaching for his hand.

“Oh. Must owe you big, then.”

“George is my father’s friend. I helped him a lot when he wanted to open this place, free of charge.”

“How convenient.”

“It is,” Arthur agrees and squeezes Merlin’s hand before withdrawing his. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Merlin follows his lead, keeping himself close but not too close as to attract attention, despite Arthur’s reassurances. Once inside, a pretty waitress greets them and takes Arthur’s name. Her eyes light up with recognition and she excuses herself for a moment and it’s barely a minute before a short, uptight looking man approaches them, outstretching his hand to grasp Arthur’s and shaking it stiffly.

“Arthur. What a pleasure.”

“Hello, George. Thank you for complying with my request. I know you’re a busy man.”

“Ah, not at all. Anything for you.”

He sounds way too stiff to Merlin’s liking but seems genuine nonetheless.

“Who’s your companion?” he asks, snapping Merlin out of his thoughts. He gives him an appraising look.

“This is Merlin,” Arthur replies and for a moment Merlin sees him hesitate. “He is... We are on a date,” he finally says, surprising both Merlin and the older man.

“Oh,” George quips, clearing his throat. The surprise is evident on his face but it’s only a few seconds before the polite mask is put back “Well, I hope this will be to your liking,” he says neutrally, pointedly avoiding looking at Merlin anymore.

“I’m sure it will.”

George then leads them to huge doors leading to a garden. Merlin can tell that the space can easily hold two dozen tables but right now, there is only one and _holy shit, is that an actual gazebo?_

Dumbfounded, he takes a seat at the table, Arthur sitting himself opposite him. George leaves them then, promising that a waiter will be with them shortly.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Merlin speaks first, “but which part of this is supposed to be like a prom?”

While the inside of the restaurant has actual musicians, they only have a stereo perched on a bench here. It’s already playing music and Merlin vaguely recognizes the song to be from eighties.

Arthur’s eyes glint with mischief. “You’ll see.”

* * *

He does see. He is still licking the chocolate mouse from his lips when Arthur stands up and offers Merlin his hand. “Dance with me?”

_Clock strikes upon the hour_

_And the sun begins to fade_

Oh, boy. _So this is how it is?_

Unable to stop the stupid smile spreading across his face, Merlin takes the offered hand, hoisting himself up to come chest to chest with Arthur.

“Is this like... our song now?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and leads him further from the table so there’s no danger of Merlin falling over something, the clumsy fool he is. As they start moving to the tunes, Merlin is overcome with the memory that, despite having had happened a year and half ago, is still fresh in his mind.

For the life of him, he can’t stop smiling.

“You look like you’re having a stroke,” Arthur comments playfully.

“Don’t be a dick, Arthur,” Merlin protests. “This is perfect, don’t ruin it by running your big mouth.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Merlin.”

“Oh, sod off.” Merlin then steps on Arthur’s foot and despite being all apologetic, the sparkle in his eyes gives away that the action was very much deliberate.

“You little minx.”

The whole thing sends them both giggling like kids and instead of dancing, they end up just kinda twirling around, laughing when one of them trips - although it’s mostly Merlin.

Eventually, they run out of breath and end up slow-dancing to a few less upbeat songs.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin says out of the blue. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” Then ruins the whole moment. “I never knew you to be such a hopeless romantic.”

“You’re so infuriating,” Arthur groans, the sound nearly painful but it only makes Merlin cackle.

“You’re adorable.”

“Merlin. Shut. Up.”

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” he says resignedly but the stupid smirk is still in place, aggravating Arthur to no end. Then the smirk disappears and something softer, almost melancholic takes over.

“This is beyond my wildest dreams, you know?”

“What exactly?”

“This,” Merlin gestures around them, then in between them. “Us. When I first realized how I felt about you... God, Arthur, I never knew. Never knew I could have this.”

He watches the bob of Arthur’s throat as he swallows, and feels him shake minutely. “Neither did I. Merlin, you should know... you must know that... that I... um...”

Stopping the sway of their bodies, Merlin pulls him impossibly closer, brushing a thumb over Arthur’s cheekbone before he closes the distance and kisses him on the lips, languid and deep and _Christ,_ it still feels like the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says when they pull apart, exhaling forcefully. “I’m sorry that I never... that I never say it. But I do Merlin. Gods, I do.”

“Shh, Arthur,” he comforts, pressing their foreheads together, and into the space between them, he whispers, “I know.”

* * *

“Why are you looking at me like that?” asks Arthur when Merlin hasn’t stopped staring at him for the past five minutes.

“Just wondering.”

“About?”

A corner of his mouth quirks up. “What you’d look like as a groom.”

Arthur chokes on his wine, barely managing to contain it in his mouth and not spray it over the pristine white tablecloth. How does Merlin do it, always saying some shit that nearly causes Arthur to pop a vessel? One would think he’s gotten used to it after all this time, but no. Not a chance.

He wants to tell Merlin that he wouldn’t look much different as a groom than he does as a best man, his and Lance’s suits nearly identical.

He wants to tell him that he remembers his wedding day and that he didn’t look anything special. Everyone always looks at the bride anyway.

He wants to ask him why he wonders about stuff like that, why does he picture Arthur standing at the altar.

As a higher power would have it, that’s not what comes out.

“Maybe you’ll find out one day.” His eyes budge out at hearing the words tumble out of his mouth and he finds Merlin mirroring his expression.

“Did you just--?” he doesn’t finish the question. He doesn’t have to. Judging by Arthur’s deer-caught-in-the-headlights face, there’s no doubt that he said what he said.

“Um... I...”

Merlin grips his glass so hard his knuckles go white and Arthur suspects it’s to hold himself back from leaping across the table to close the space of the two feet separating them, and kissing the life out of him because... well... Gwen probably wouldn’t appreciate the scandal.

“You mean it?” he asks instead.

_I do. God help me, I do._

“Yeah.”

Merlin stands up abruptly, motioning for him to do the same and Arthur obediently follows him until they are safely hidden from the rest of the guests, then lets Merlin push him against a tree and kiss him until his knees buckle.

“As far as proposals go, that was shit,” he huffs against his lips.

“Is that a yes?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s a yes.”

Arthur’s always thought that after you turn forty, it’s pretty much game over, all the best years gone, it’s only gonna go downhill from now on.

But here, in Merlin’s arms, their lips pressed together...

It feels like he’s just starting to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support and the lovely comments! I wouldn't push myself without you 
> 
> Love you, guys <3


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